London Calling
by FrogtownStamper
Summary: A sequel to my story "Moving On". The joys and hardships found by the Rabbs in London.
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, I'm just taking them out to play. Not profiting from their usage, other than that of my own personal enjoyment. Hopefully, you all enjoy it as well.

This story is a sequel to "Moving On" and it is recommended that you read that story first, just to have an idea of how we got to here. For the series timeline, this takes place after "Back in the Saddle" and the scene of Harm being offered his commission back by Admiral Chegwidden.

January 2, 2004

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

0738 Greenwich/ 0238 Eastern

Captain Harmon Rabb Junior walked confidently into the suite of offices that would be his domain for the next three years. His service dress blues were impeccably turned out, his gold wings glinting in the lights and his four rows of ribbons spoke of a man with courage and experience. Taking a second to look around, he was surprised to see how much smaller the area was than he expected. He suspected that it was due to his long time spent at JAG Headquarters and the bullpen style he'd grown accustomed to.

A petty officer spotted him after a few seconds and after seeing the four rings, snapped to attention. His action caused the rest of the staff to follow suit, yet nobody called out attention. The reason for this became clear as he made his way across the office towards the inner door clearly marked as the Force Judge Advocate's office. He was almost there when the door opened and Harm stopped in surprise.

"Hello, Harm," came a voice from the past, as Alison Krennick came from the office.

"Captain," Harm replied, keeping his tone formal while extending his hand.

Alison shook the offered hand before ushering him into her office and closing the door.

"I was surprised when I got told you were going to be replacing me," she said. "I never figured they'd let you out of Washington."

"Well, I was offered a choice between being the assistant SJA for the Joint Chiefs and the position here. My wife and I decided on London."

"Your wife?! You mean somebody finally managed to tie the great Harmon Rabb down."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harm said with a smile.

"Harm, we're the same rank. You don't have to 'Ma'am' me, you know," Alison told him.

"Sorry. I guess it's a force of habit. So, what do I need to know before I take over?"

"You've got a good staff here. What they need mostly is experience. With the war on terror being CENTCOM's problem, there's not much we have to do with regards to ROE for that. Europe is relatively quiet and so is the Med, meaning our biggest problems are ordinary things like DDOs, assaults and such. All the really complicated stuff gets handled by JAG HQ anyways, so it is reasonably relaxing duty."

"How long have you been here, Alison?" Harm asked.

"Four years. I got this post in January 2000, after I got promoted to Captain. Before that I was an instructor at NJS for three years, which is where Chegwidden dumped me after the whole Lieutenant Schonke murder investigation fiasco. He blamed me for not getting that solved and for the investigation turning into a mess. NCIS was pissed at JAG, JAG was pissed at NCIS and someone got away with murder," Alison said, shaking her head at the bad memory.

Harm just cautiously watched the older woman, wondering if she would mention his part in the investigation becoming screwed up. The years had been less than kind to Alison and her age was showing in her face. Her blonde hair was now streaked with greys and her voice had a raspy quality to it, which spoke of lots of smoking.

"So, where is all the staff?" Harm asked.

Alison smiled kindly at Harm. She'd been waiting for him to say something, as the office was relatively small compared to what he was used to at Falls Church.

"Oh, there's nothing here like JAG Ops, Harm. Our offices are all over the floor, plus the various personnel already sent to Naval Support Activity Naples ahead of the planned move there late next year."

"What?"

"Yeah. NAVFOREUR is moving to Naples in September 2005, because COMUSNAVEUR is also COMJFC and JFC is located in Naples. It's not exactly efficient for him to have to commute between the two offices, so they're moving this one there."

Harm grinned ruefully at that. He had a year and a half to think about where Beth could be assigned under spousal colocation. The problem was, her post in London was for three years and he doubted BUPERs would want to relocate her a second time in two years just to accompany him. Also, there just weren't many positions in Naples that he knew of for someone with her skill set, but maybe it would offer her a chance to expand her horizons. That would be especially important, given that the F-14 was being phased out of fleet service and scheduled for retirement in 2006.

Alison, for her part, was watching Harm. The years had been kind to him, she saw. He looked a little older, but in a good way. She could see a few flecks of grey at the temples and a few more lines around his eyes, but the look screamed "authority" rather than just "old". His career too seemed to be progressing nicely, especially getting to Captain's rank at his age. She had heard rumors over the years about some of the cases he'd won and investigations he'd done, which had only served to confirm her impression of him formed when she'd first met him: this was a man destined for high rank.

Her own career, sadly, didn't have that possibility any more. That one old investigation had effectively ended it for her. Alison had been surprised when she'd been offered the FJA post four years ago. She knew that Chegwidden had placed a fairly damning letter in her personnel file and her abrupt transfer out of JAG HQ to an instructor's position at NJS had hardly been a step forward. Now, she was just playing out the hand and waiting for mandatory retirement.

"The staff in Naples still reports to me, though," Harm said, drawing Alison's thoughts back to the here and now.

"Yes. Your deputy is down there, along with 4 Judge Advocates, 2 Judges and a half dozen enlisted staff. Part of that is staff that was originally based in Naples, attached to the LSO. Keep in mind too, Harm, that almost all of the JAG officers in Europe report to you. The current Staff Judge Advocate for EURCOM is a Navy JAG who isn't in your chain of command."

Harm was slightly shocked by the revelation. The transfer had happened too fast in some respects, without his being given an adequate briefing on all that his new position entailed. Well, that was alright, he would just have to learn as he went and try not to make the same mistakes twice. First, though, would be sitting down with Alison and going over everything currently occurring in the region. Seeing the large stack of folders that occupied her desk, Harm was glad he had a few days before she was due to leave. He figured it would probably take every minute of that time to go through all of this.

The American School – London, England

1602 Greenwich/ 2102 Eastern

Mattie had not enjoyed her day at all. Harm and Beth had arranged for her to attend a highly regarded school while they were stationed in England, so first thing this morning they had all walked from the house to the school. Fortunately, all of the documents that had been sent over before the move had arrived and were in order. The admissions staffer's face had expressed surprise at seeing the two adults in naval officer's uniforms, yet she quickly covered the look while handing over three copies of Mattie's school schedule along with the school handbook.

Mattie had been a little lost and overwhelmed, the number of students as well as the age variation stunning her. That was without the disconnect that came with hearing so many different accents and languages. So, the teen tried to sit in the very back of each of her classes, hoping to go unnoticed. That was not to be, however, since all of her teachers had been briefed on the new student and had her introduce herself to the class. Mattie's face flushed as red as her hair from embarrassment.

Then, there were the classes themselves. She'd been trying, ever since Harm had gotten her back into school, to make up the work that she'd missed. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to accomplish that before the change of schools. So, that resulted in her being in a strange place, without any friends and lagging behind in her classes. All she could hope for was understanding from the teachers, along with maybe some after school help to get her caught up.

What Mattie didn't know was that the school staff was well aware of the situation, having received the information from both Harm and the Falls Church school she'd briefly attended. So it was that, as Mattie was getting ready to leave her last class, the teacher asked her to stay. Once the rest of the class had left, the teacher had her sit down and spent an hour working with the teen. She also explained that each of Mattie's other teachers would all be willing to work with her, after school, until the teen was fully caught up.

That was why she was leaving the school well after most of the other students had, taking away the chance to potentially make acquaintances on the walk toward home. Mattie shouldered the backpack and began walking. Getting to the house from school as almost ridiculously simple, yet she almost got hit by a car when she tried to cross the street and looked the wrong way. The sound of the horn surprised her and caused her to jump back, only to see a red car pass right in front of her with the driver glaring at her.

With that came the realization that she was in London and not Virginia. Cars here drove the wrong way, or so it seemed to her. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed that when they'd first arrived. Possibly it was the excitement of being in a new place that had caused that to escape her attention or maybe she'd just been more focused and paying more attention, rather than being incredibly distracted like she was today. Whatever the reason, Mattie knew she'd have to pay more attention until she became accustomed to her new surroundings.

Arriving home, she went into the kitchen for a snack. Taking a bottle of root beer out along with some leftovers, she fixed a small plate and carried it to the microwave to reheat. When it was ready, she settled in at the table and ate, while also doing her assigned reading for her history class. After eating, she cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher before carrying her things upstairs and on to her bedroom. Flopping across the bed, Mattie resumed her studying. She knew it would still be hours before either Harm or Beth were home, which should give her plenty of time to get the worst of homework done.

Grove End Road – London, England

1929 Greenwich/ 0029 Eastern

Harm was just finishing making dinner when Beth got home. When he had finished around 1800, he'd stopped at the embassy to see if she had been ready. Unfortunately, she'd been in a meeting at the time, so he had been forced to leave a message for her. The yeoman hadn't known how much longer the meeting was due to last and Harm hadn't wanted to simply sit in the outer office and wait, so he had caught a taxi home.

Once there, he'd checked in on Mattie before going to the bedroom and changing into jeans and a pullover. With that accomplished, he'd gone back downstairs and began the prep work for dinner. Looking through the cupboards, he'd decided on salmon steaks for Mattie and Beth and tomato soup, garden salads and garlic mashed potatoes for everyone. He also made broccoli with cheddar cheese sauce for himself.

The smell of the cooking brought Mattie from her room and she quickly set the table, along with getting out drinks for them all. Beth smiled as she saw all this upon entering the kitchen, having left her briefcase by the front door. Moving quickly, she went up to Harm and wrapped her arms around him before snuggling up to him. Harm took one hand away from his work to rest in on top of hers, before turning his attention back to the stovetop. Judging everything was ready, he removed the mashed potatoes and the broccoli and transferred the pots to the table where hot pads awaited them. The soup he turned down to simmer, to keep it hot. Instead of bringing the pot to the table, he filled bowls and carried them over. As for the salmon, he put the two pieces onto a separate plate and carried them over to the table for Beth and Mattie.

"I was surprised you were in a meeting when I stopped by to pick you up on the way home," Harm told Beth. "I figured the first day would be mostly getting your paperwork sorted out."

"Well, that's what occupied my morning. After lunch, I was getting brought up to speed on all the projects that we have going with the British Ministry of Defense," Beth said.

"Oh, like what?"

"Well, the Brits are interested in the new Joint Strike Fighter that's being developed. They see it as a potential replacement for the Harrier, so the DOD and MOD are in talks about the Brits buying some and I'll be somewhat involved with that."

"Sounds interesting," Harm said, glad that Beth had a real assignment here rather than just a diplomatic post.

"What about you, Harm? How was your first day?" Beth asked.

"Well, I met with the outgoing FJA and got briefed on what the office is currently handling. After that, I met with the Judge Advocates, Judicial staff and the enlisted personnel. You know, the typical meet the new boss shtick. Not a whole lot currently going on, just the usual stuff but that could change by tomorrow. There was one piece of bad news, though."

"And what was that?"

"NAVFOREUR is moving from London to Naples, with the movement to be completed by September of 2005," Harm told Beth and Mattie. "That gives us about 18 months to figure out what we want to do."

"What's there to think about?" Mattie asked. "If the office moves to Naples, don't you have to go, too? I mean, you're the boss, right?"

"That's correct, Mattie, as far as it goes. However, just because the office moves there doesn't necessarily mean that we have to move there, sweetheart. See, Beth's and my assignments are for three years. If need be, you and Beth could stay here in London until January of 2007, while I work out of Naples and travel back as often as I can. Alternately, I could always retire. My twenty years is up in June of 2005, so I'd get retirement benefits if I stayed in that long. We could also start looking at what would be available next for us that June, too, which might have an impact on our decision."

"Personally, I think you retiring should be a last resort type of thing," Beth said. "If you have to go to Naples and I have to stay in London, we'll make it work. Just think of all the deployments I could get sent on in the future. We'd survive those, right?"

"Indeed, we would," Harm told her, leaning in for a kiss.

"Gee, I'm trying to eat here," Mattie said, with a mock sigh. "If you want to make out, could you go in another room or something?"

Harm and Beth both looked at the 14 year old girl and laughed. Obviously, boys had yet to gone from "disgusting creatures" to "things I can't live without" for Mattie, but both adults silently promised themselves that when that change happened and the young woman was caught kissing some boy, these comments would be brought up. Or maybe not, considering that going into another room might lead to other activities taking place.

Harm did decide to tease the teen a little though, so he leaned back in to Beth for another kiss, this one deeper than the previous one. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mattie roll her eyes before dropping her attention to her food and refusing to raise her head as she quickly finished up and practically raced from the kitchen to go back upstairs and her awaiting homework.

"You are so bad, Harm," Beth said with a sigh.

"That may well be, but it sure is funny," Harm told her. "One day soon, Mattie's thoughts on the whole kissing thing are going to change, so I thought we should provide her with tips through repeated demonstration."

"Oh, so that's what your plan is? Not just that you can't get enough of your wife?"

"Well, that is the primary reason for my kissing you, but why not multitask if you can?"

Beth just looked at Harm and laughed. Only he would view kissing his wife that way. Still, once dinner was eaten, the couple happily cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher before moving to the living room. Settling in on the couch, Beth reached for the remote and turned on the television. Stopping at a channel that looked interesting, they watched a couple of hours of British television shows. The first show was a comedy, judging by the laugh track, but both of them missed much of the humor of the show. Fortunately, the next two shows were dramas and the sense of disconnect was less for the visitors from America.

Still, even mostly understanding the show did not mean that Harm wanted to make watching television a nightly occurrence. He'd gotten along just fine without one for years and didn't much see the need for the device now. His idea of recreation was going for a run or listening to music or playing his guitar. So, he was glad when Beth finally turned the television off and announced that she was going to bed. He simply got up and followed her upstairs, where the couple quickly retired to the bedroom and hurried into bed.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Mrs. Rabb?" Harm asked as he spooned up against his wife.

"Not recently, no. But I'd much rather you showed me," Beth said before turning towards him and claiming his lips with a passionate kiss.

"Yes, Ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

January 5, 2004

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

1013 Greenwich/ 1513 Eastern

Harm was settled behind the desk, while Alison occupied the chair across from him as they were going over the various files. Thankfully, the files were well organized and prepared, making the task of reading through them easier. Still, Harm knew he'd likely have a headache by the time he was through. He also realized that Admiral Chegwidden may have done him something of a favor when he'd assigned him the budget years ago. Harm would now be responsible for the finances of his office and have to justify the expenses and prepare the next year's budget request.

The telephone on the desk rang then, yet Alison made no move to answer it.

"That's for you, Harm," she finally said with a laugh. "You're the FJA now, not me."

"Captain Rabb, Sir," Harm said into the telephone.

"Captain, Captain Pratt here. I'm aide to Admiral Kieso, the COMUSNAVEUR. The Admiral desires your presence for lunch at 1230 hours today. We'll be eating in his private dining room," Captain Pratt said.

"Understood, Captain. 1230 at the Admiral's dining room," Harm said, clearly knowing that an Admiral's desire was in the nature of an order.

"Correct. See you this afternoon," was all that was said before Captain Pratt hung up.

"Well, if you're lunching with the Admiral, we'll have to get as much done as we can by 1200. That way you'll be on time," Alison said with a smile, which turned into a laugh at the wounded look on Harm's face. "I'm certain that hasn't changed in the last seven years."

"I've been trying," Harm replied, somewhat defensively.

"That's good to hear, because Admiral Kieso doesn't tolerate lateness. You're either in the appointed place at the appointed time or you're not, so you may want to factor that in when he asks to see you. Personally, I suggest getting there fifteen minutes early, if you can."

"Maybe I should just adjust my watch by those fifteen minutes."

"I doubt that would work for you, Harm," Alison told him. "You'd know you had the extra fifteen minutes and ignore the time, ending up being late. Keep in mind, as the FJA, you serve at his pleasure. Screw up and he'll have you reassigned so fast, your luggage will arrive a week after you do. Oh, and your next posting would probably be Diego Garcia or Keflavik, Iceland."

Harm winced at that, before turning his attention back to the files. He only had Alison until Friday, then she out-processed to her next duty station. So, now was the time to ask any questions he might have.

Almost two hours later, the little alarm Alison had set on her watch went off announcing that it was time for Harm to get moving. Shrugging into his jacket, Harm left the office and proceeded to the stairs. Climbing to the top floor, he made his way to the suite of offices maintained for the Admiral. Walking down the hall, he had looked for signs for the private dining room, but had failed to see any. He was beginning to suspect Alison had set him up, by failing to tell him that the room was not located by the suite of offices.

Not knowing what else to do, Harm entered the outer office of Admiral Kieso. A chief petty officer looked up from the document he was reading, then stood.

"Captain Rabb," he asked with a touch of confidence in his voice. The man knew all of the special staff assigned to the Headquarters and figured this must be the new man on campus. "Follow me, Sir."

With that, the chief led the way back out of the office and down two door, knocking sharply before opening the door.

"Captain Rabb, Sir," the chief announced, stepping aside for Harm to enter.

Admiral Kieso was seated at a long table, which today was set for only three people. Sitting to the right of the Admiral was a Captain, whose uniform identified her as his aide.

"Never mind the formalities," the Admiral said as he saw Harm began to brace prior to reporting. "I know who you are and this is lunch, not a hanging party, Captain."

Harm moved to the vacant seat, shaking hands with both Admiral Kieso and Captain Pratt when they stood. The Admiral was a sharp featured man in his early sixties, a hawk-like look to his face and solid gray hair on top of a rail thin body. The look he gave Harm seemed to cut straight through him, leaving all that was inside open for inspection. Captain Pratt, on the other hand, was a redhead of indeterminate age. Her complexion suggested someone of Irish ancestry, yet her name did not lend itself to that. The other thing her complexion suggested was that she found little time or desire for worshiping the sun, as pale as she was.

When Harm met her eyes, he realized his inspection hadn't gone unnoticed nor unreturned. Her right eyebrow was quirked slightly upward, in a quizzical expression, while a smile played at the corners of her mouth. He suspected it was only the Admiral's presence that kept the smile from flowing forth.

"I've heard some good things about you, Captain," Admiral Kieso said. "When I was told you were going to replace Captain Krennick, I reviewed your personnel file and your fitness reports. I see you like to skirt the edge in order to get at the truth and that you don't seem to have a problem going toe to toe with the brass. Excellent. One thing I can't stand is a 'Yes' man, thinking the path to promotion is by kissing my ass. What I need, Captain, is someone who'll give me the facts and their best judgment, especially when that means telling me I'm making a huge mistake."

"Understood, Sir," Harm said.

"Your sole interest is keeping this command on solid legal ground, not protecting my career. Your officers are here to accomplish that and if anyone gets in their way, I want to know immediately. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Colleen can usually have me on the phone in 120 seconds, if you need something urgent," Admiral Kieso said as a pair of enlisted mess men brought in lunch.

Looking at his plate, Harm could see the thoroughness of their check. His lunch was a salad and a bowl of broccoli and cheddar soup, while both Admiral Kieso and Captain Pratt were eating lamb chops and new potatoes. A plate of cheese and crackers was also placed on the table, along with fresh coffee. Conversation during the meal was light, mostly the usual questions of "Do you know…" and "Have you ever been to…" followed by answers that led to new topics. Harm sensed that the business of the meeting was actually over and that the Admiral had asked him to lunch for those few moments of shop talk.

When the mess man returned to clear the table, Admiral Kieso turned to Harm and fixed him with a hard look.

"Captain, another thing you're going to be dealing with are potential friendly fire incidents between naval personnel and allied forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan. The Air Force has an incident brewing right now involving two A-10s destroying British armored vehicles and killing a trooper. The Brits aren't happy with the fact that the pilots haven't been disciplined, which may affect their attitudes if something similar happens again."

"I've heard about the incident, Sir," Harm said. "I don't have any details on the Air Force's investigation, though, so I can't really …."

"No, I know that," Admiral Kieso interrupted, holding up a hand. "I didn't expect that you would know or have even looked at the incident, since it doesn't involve you or us. Rather, I just want you to think about that if something similar happens, because your office will be one of those responsible for dealing with the British MOD if naval personnel are involved."

"Understood, Sir."

With that, both the Admiral and his aide stood, which served to bring Harm out of his chair as well. After an exchange of handshakes, he left through the door he had entered, while the Admiral went through one that obviously led back to his office. Going back down to his office, he found Alison and the files there waiting for him. Settling back behind the desk, he picked back up with they had left off an hour before.

For her part, Alison didn't question Harm about how the lunch had went. She had a pretty good idea, having experienced it herself last year when Admiral Kieso took over as COMUSNAVEUR. She had been impressed with the man, yet somewhat surprised at his seeming political innocence. She hadn't expected someone to reach four-star rank without being corrupted by the system, yet the man seemed to be just that. In all of her dealings with the Admiral, he'd never once asked that something be swept under the rug or quietly lost. He had let her do her job and provided his support as needed.

Grove End Road – London, England

1742 Greenwich/ 2242 Eastern

Beth was the first to arrive tonight and she was slightly surprised to find that the house was quiet. Going upstairs, she quickly changed into a sweatshirt and jeans before walking down the hall to Mattie's room. Looking inside, she saw the teen's outfit from this morning laying on the bed, but there was no sign of the girl. Making her way back downstairs, she looking in the living room before going into the kitchen. Not knowing when Harm would be home, Beth decided to begin making dinner.

A quick look in the refrigerator and she pulled out some vegetables, having decided on a stir-fry. After washing the items, she began slicing them into pieces before getting the wok out and heating the oil. Tossing the pile of vegetables into the wok, she turned to getting the rice going. One of the nice things about the kitchen in this house, as far as Beth was concerned, was the closeness of everything. It made it much easier to keep an eye on the stove top while also preparing other items. So, she could give the vegetables a stir every few moments while also setting the rice to cook.

A hand on her back served to startle Beth and cause her head to snap around, there to find Harm was a smile on his face.

"Something smells good," Harm said as he stepped in for a kiss.

"Behave, Harm. I'm trying to cook and I don't want to burn anything," Beth said, as she moved back and turned towards the stove.

Harm was having none of that, however. A glance told him that everything she would need was already cooking, so he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Brushing her hair to the side, he proceeded to trail kisses from the back of her neck to her cheek.

"Harm, Mattie could come in," Beth protested.

"No. She called me at the office when she got home and asked if she could go out with a couple of girls from school. They're going to do some studying and Mattie will join their family for dinner. I talked to the girls' father and he said it was alright, that he would bring her home afterwards. So, it's just us for dinner and I don't expect Mattie to be back until around 2100."

"Then why don't you get changed and we'll eat dinner."

"Sounds like a plan, darling. Give me five minutes," Harm said as he let go of her and headed out of the kitchen and on upstairs. Having seen how Beth was dressed and correctly deducing that indicated a night in, as opposed to their going out somewhere, Harm elected to follow suit with a sweatshirt and jeans as well. Going back downstairs, he saw that the food was served and Beth had decided to place the arrangements next to each other rather than across the small table.

They were halfway through dinner when the telephone began to ring. With a sigh, Harm pushed back from the table and went to the extension that sat on the kitchen counter.

"Captain Rabb, Sir," he answered it.

"Captain, Petty Officer Werk here. Sir, we've just gotten a report of an incident involving one of our officers."

Harm waited for the young man to continued, only to be met with silence.

"Petty Officer, do we have any details?"

"Oh, yes, Sir. A Lieutenant Stone off the USS Mahan was found by police in Naples. The reports indicate that she was unconscious, bound and gagged and there was evidence she'd been raped before being stabbed, Sir."

"Is there a suspect, Petty Officer?" Harm asked.

"Not according to these reports, Sir. NCIS is still conducting their investigation," Petty Officer Werk replied.

"Alright, then. Alert our personnel in Naples about a potential case, so they're up to speed. However, in the future, this type of thing can usually wait until the morning, Petty Officer. Or at least until we have a potential suspect. NCIS can handle the investigation, that's their job."

"Understood, Sir."

"Thank you, Petty Officer," was all Harm said before he hung up.

"Anything you can talk about, Harm?" Beth asked, seeing the look on his face.

"Oh, a potential case. The kid who has the night desk jumped the gun a little. NCIS is still carrying out their investigation, so the only thing my sending a JAG team into the mix would accomplish is to upset the NCIS people and possibly slow up the investigation."

"Then, why don't you finish dinner and we'll move to the living room. Maybe do some snuggling on the couch while listening to music. Because I know you're not going to bed until Mattie gets home."

Harm flashed Beth a brief look before sitting back down and finishing his dinner. The pair made short work of the pots and pans before loading the dishwasher and retiring to the living room. Harm picked up the stereo's remote and tuned in a channel playing light jazz, then he laid back on the couch and pulled Beth down on top of him.

"I seem to remember a time when we were laying like this, you said you couldn't breathe," Beth said with an impish smile.

"I have no memory of ever having said that," was Harm's reply, before he captured her lips in a kiss. "As a matter of fact, this feels just right to me."

"Good answer, darling."

The couple spent the next several minutes kissing each other before Beth put a stop to things by turning over. With her back to her husband, she took his hands and folded them across her midsection. She laughed lightly at hearing Harm's groan of frustration.

"Seriously, do you want Mattie to come home and find us having sex on the couch?" Beth asked, teasingly, knowing the answer full well as she continued on. "So, be a good boy until after she comes home and goes to bed. After that, we can get some practice in on keeping my promise to your dad."

"I'll be good," Harm told her and Beth could swear she heard the pout in his voice.

Harm stayed true to his word, contenting himself to simply cuddle with Beth. The soft music soon lulled by of them into a semi-sleep that was only broken by the sound of Mattie's key in the door. Harm and Beth both got off the couch and went to the entryway to find Mattie pushing the door open followed by an older gentleman.

"Thank you for seeing me up to the door, Mister Parkhurst," Mattie told the gentleman.

"Certainly, Mattie," he told her before seeing Harm and Beth standing there. "I see your parents heard us arrive."

"Mister Parkhurst, my parents. Captain Harmon Rabb and Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Rabb. Dad, this is Hillary and Heather's father."

"Pleased to meet you, Captain Rabb. We spoke on the telephone earlier."

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mister Parkhurst," Harm said before shaking the extended hand. "Thank you for walking Mattie up to the door."

"You would no doubt do the same if you were seeing my daughters' home, Captain. Especially since seeing the door is rather difficult from where I could park the car. Oh, and Mattie is invited to our house this weekend, if that is acceptable."

"I don't see a problem with that, as long as nothing comes up to interfere."

"Excellent. If she could have an overnight case ready on Friday, my wife will be collecting the girls from school and can simply drop by here for Mattie to collect it. We'll have her home Sunday afternoon, if that suits you and the missus."

"That should be fine," Harm said, although he was a little shocked by the quickness of Mattie being invited to spend a whole weekend with people he hadn't met. Still, Mattie had a good head on her shoulders and being in a strange new place, she needed to make friends. So, if this was a way for her to make friends, Harm was willing to give his blessing, for the moment. He also knew he'd look into Mr. Parkhurst as soon as he reached the office in the morning.

"Mattie has all the details, as well as our telephone numbers and such. So, if either of you have any questions, just call myself or the wife. Now, I'll say Good Night, because if I'm gone too long the missus is certain I've either wrecked the car or gotten lost."

Harm, Beth and Mattie all shared a laugh at that before watching the man walk back out to where he'd parked the car. Once he was driving away, Harm closed the door and looked at Mattie, who was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Thank you so much for saying yes, Dad," Mattie said as she gave him a quick hug. "The twins are so much fun. Once we finished our homework, they took me down to the game room and we played games until it was time for dinner. After dinner, we watched a movie before it was time for me to come home."

"Well, it certainly sounds like you had a good time. Now, what's going on this weekend?" Harm asked.

"Oh, Friday night is a sleep over with a few other girls from school, so maybe I'll make a few more friends. Then, the Parkhursts are taking us to the theater on Saturday to see 'The Phantom of the Opera' and then out to dinner afterwards. So, by Sunday, I'll be ready to come home and crash."

"Well, I certainly hope you'll be getting homework done somewhere in there," Beth said with a laugh, pleased at how excited the teen sounded.

"If not, I can get it all caught up Sunday evening," Mattie said.

Harm and Beth just exchanged a look at that, while Mattie hurried up the stairs and made for her bedroom. Tossing her bag on the floor next to the bed, she quickly changed into sleepwear before climbing into bed. While not very late, it was close enough to her bedtime that she was able to fall asleep in a few minutes. Harm and Beth smiled at each other before turning off the stereo and the downstairs lights. After checking the doors, they also went upstairs and into their bedroom. However, sleep wasn't the thing on either adult's minds.


	3. Chapter 3

January 6, 2004

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

0734 Greenwich/ 1234 Eastern

Harm had gotten to the office before Alison and after settling behind the desk, started reading through the reports than had come in overnight. On top of the pile had been a more complete report on the assault on Lieutenant Stone, along with the medical report on her injuries. Unfortunately, there wasn't a suspect listed in the report and the NCIS agent was still trying to find witnesses. Harm made a note to have the Deputy FJA down in Naples offer NCIS whatever assistance they might need. The last thing he wanted was for someone to get away with this kind of crime.

Moving on, he made quick work of the rest of the stack, adding various notes to the sheet he had already begun. Most of the reports were completed case summaries that he was required to sign off on before they could be filed. A very few were new incident reports, cases that either Harm or the Naples staff would be assigning today. The sound of the door opening revealed Harm's yeoman bringing in a coffee mug.

"Thank you, Petty Officer." Harm said with a smile, one that quickly vanished once he'd taken a sip from the mug. His eyes almost bugged out of his head, stunned by how bad the brew was. Fortunately, the Petty Office had already turned to the door before Harm had taken his sip and missed the reaction. When the door closed, Harm turned to the planter in the corner of the office and dumped the coffee into it, vowing to either bring his own before coming to work or personally supervising the making of the pot from now on.

He was just getting back into his seat when Alison came into the office, holding two cups of coffee. Harm just looked at her warily as she deposited on in front of him. It was only after she had taken a drink that he decided to test it.

"I take it Petty Officer Simpkins brought you a cup today?" Alison asked with a grin.

"Has anyone explained how the machine works to him?" was what Harm asked in reply.

"Several times, but nothing has worked. Give him files to organize, something to type or a schedule to keep, he's your man. Coffee and such, not so much."

Harm laughed at that. Simpkins sounded like Tiner in many ways, which in turn made him wonder what Admiral Chegwidden's former yeoman was doing now. By this point, he should have finished both OCS and NJS and be reporting for his first assignment as a JAG, wherever that might be. Making a mental note to check and see, Harm came back to the here and now.

"Well, I guess I'll just need to keep him focused on those things he does well."

"Couldn't hurt, Harm," Alison told him with a smile, drawing a laugh from Harm. "It's nice to finally hear a real laugh from you."

"As opposed to…?"

"That kind of strained 'I'm laughing to cover my discomfort' thing I used to hear, usually right after I propositioned you."

Harm laughed again, but this time it did sound strained, even to him.

"See, that's what I meant," Alison said with a smile. "What was it about the idea of my wanting you that always made you so uncomfortable?"

"You mean aside from the whole fraternization issue?"

"Yes. I mean, I know you found me attractive. I saw you looking a few times, so I know that wasn't the problem."

"Alison, you were a very attractive woman. But I wasn't going to get involved with you at the risk of my career, nor was I willing to give you that type of control over me."

"Too bad, I think you would have liked my being in control," Alison said with a flirtatious grin. "Although from what Kate Pike mentioned, maybe having you in control would have been more fun."

Alison laughed out loud at the stunned look that crossed Harm's face at that revelation.

Unfortunately for Harm's sanity, a knock at the door prevented him from asking Alison what exactly Kate had told her. For Alison's part, that look was all the confirmation she needed that the rumors about Kate and Harm being involved were true. This served to make her both jealous and curious, jealous of the fact that Kate had gotten what Alison had always wanted and curious as to whether Harm had also been sleeping with Lieutenant Austin. She had always suspected the possibility, given the fact that Lieutenant Austin had clearly had feelings for Harm. Then there was the fact that Austin had simply vanished one day, right after the Schonke investigation as a matter of fact.

Harm had dealt with the yeoman announcing it was time for staff call and now was looking at Alison with questioning eyes. Clearly the woman's thoughts were far away and he was left to wonder what they were. After calling her name three times, she finally broke free of her thoughts and stood, so that they could both make their way to the small conference room and the morning staff call.

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

1328 Greenwich/ 1828 Local

The morning staff call had been surprisingly quick, with just a pair of new assignments. Most of the time had been taken up with getting updates on current investigations and cases. So Harm and Alison had been able to spend a few more hours getting Harm up to speed on where the office stood. When lunch time came, Alison had suggested going out for something. However, there was just something in her tone that Harm hadn't necessarily liked and so, he begged off by claiming other plans.

Instead, he'd walked over to the embassy and managed to catch Beth leaving for her lunch. The pair had eaten in the embassy's cafeteria and been joined by a couple of other officers in her department. The lunchtime chatter had steered well clear of business, instead focusing on the more mundane. Knowing that Harm and Beth were new to town, the other officers had provided them with a number of interesting possibilities for some evening entertainment.

After finishing their lunch, Harm had walked Beth back to her office before heading across the street to his. Going inside, he was slightly relieved to see that Alison wasn't back yet. So, turning to his computer, Harm decided to do a quick check on Mr. Parkhurst. He had the family's telephone number and address courtesy of Mattie, which helped narrow his search. The first thing Harm found was that Mr. Parkhurst was actually Dr. James Parkhurst, chief of thoracic surgery at Guy's Hospital. There were several articles online, along with pictures which confirmed that this was the gentleman in question. His wife's name was Hanna and she was an instructor at the school that Mattie attended, he found. The information provided a measure of peace of mind for him, although he would reserve a more final judgment until her knew the family a little better.

Finished looking for the moment, Harm exited out of his search and turned his attention to the various files he still needed to go through. He was also beginning to wonder where Alison was at, surprised at how long of a lunch hour she was taking. What Harm didn't know was that Alison was actually closeted in the small law library that the office had, working off of her laptop. She was doing some research of her own, digging into the mysterious disappearance of Lieutenant Meg Austin, along with getting more information on Harm's career.

Alison began her search with Meg's service record. An eyebrow rose as she got to 1997, causing Alison to save the document to her hard drive before moving on with her research. Time flew by without her stopping. When she was finished with Meg, she went back to Harm's service record and then started looking into the next partner he had had at JAG, a Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. She found it interesting that Harm had always been partnered with a female. The interesting thing with the Marine was how long they'd worked together, as opposed to the short time Harm had worked with either Meg or Kate. Not finding anything in the service record that she could use, Alison still copied it before closing out.

At this point, she finally happened to look at the clock on the computer and gasped. It was almost 1800 hours and Harm definitely had to be curious by now about where she had been all afternoon. She would have to think of a good excuse for him, to keep his suspicious mind at rest while she continued digging. Tomorrow, she would go back through his service record as well as do some more research on all of the people that she saw as involved. Access to the Navy's systems had to be done from the office, meaning she'd only be able to access public records from home tonight. Harmon Rabb was going to regret his rejection of her, Alison told herself before logging off the system and saving everything before shutting down her laptop.

January 7, 2004

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

0732 Greenwich/ 1232 Eastern

Harm arrived at the office with a smile on his face. Last night, he had taken the family to a little jazz café one of Beth's co-workers had mentioned. He had been pleasantly surprised by the experience and thought that he and Beth would go back this weekend while Mattie was gone. This morning, he'd stopped on the way to work and picked up some coffee for himself and bagels for the office. Stopping in the little snack area, he left the box after taking a blueberry one from it and made his way to his office.

Alison had arrived a few minutes before him and was waiting in the office. Harm settled into the big chair and grabbed the few folders he'd read yesterday but had had questions about, so that he could go over them with her. He also logged onto the computer and began checking e-mails. About halfway down was a curious one, not routed from a navy or armed forces address but rather a generic commercial e-mail service. There was no subject line for the message, nor was there an attachment. So, Harm clicked on the open icon and waited.

"Harm, watch your back," was all the message said.

Harm was puzzled by the cryptic nature of the message. What was he supposed to be watching his back for or from, not to mention who had sent the message? Was it a friend or enemy? Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the files. Yet, that nagging voice in the back of his head would not leave him alone, as much as he tried to ignore it. It kept saying he was missing something, something that should be obvious but that just wouldn't come to him.

Staff call served as something of a respite, in that he could relax his mind and simply listen to his officers today. No new cases needed to be handed out, so it was simply a time for them to provide him with any updates or questions they might have. Harm let the other officers give their suggestions as well, as much to see what they knew as to pass on what he did. Still, the meeting was over rather quickly and Harm walked back to his office, his mind now returning more fully to the message.

As he opened the door, that missing something came to him. The e-mail account he'd accessed this morning was the account for the FJA, not his personal account. So, whoever had sent that message knew that he was the FJA but was worried that someone else might see the message and didn't want that person to learn who the sender was. Seeing that Alison hadn't followed him into the office, Harm got back on the computer and quickly logged into his personal e-mail. Immediately, he found what he was looking for, as the messages were organized by the importance the sender had set.

"Captain Rabb,

Since the incident with Admiral Chegwidden, a special security flag has been placed on your personnel records requiring the Secretary's office be notified whenever your records were being accessed. That flag was triggered yesterday by a request originating within NAVFOREUR Headquarters. NSA and NCIS are launching an investigation as to the source of those requests, but at this time no names can be provided. SECNAV asked me to keep you informed and promises to get to the bottom of this incident.

Commander Tracy Manetti"

Harm felt his jaw clinch as his anger increased. Taking several deep breaths, he reread the short letter from Traci and shook his head. The questions of who and why were the first to come to him, followed shortly by the question of what. However, seeing Alison in the doorway quickly forced those questions from his mind as he rapidly switched from that e-mail to one that had come in from General Creswell, regarding the need for end of year numbers. Turning to his desk calendar, Harm made a note of the date those were due.

"Simpkins," Harm called out, seeing the Petty Officer behind Alison's approaching form. "Schedule me to meet with Lieutenant Haldane after lunch. Let her know we need to go over the office's fiscal numbers, so she should bring her laptop or files."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Simpkins responded.

"What was that all about, Harm?" Alison asked after the door was closed.

"Well, this being a new year, we're now on 2004's budget and the new JAG wants all of the offices to get to work closing out 2003's numbers," Harm replied. "So, since Haldane is the office manager, I thought I would let her know to start compiling those for my review."

"That makes sense. Just be prepared, the Lieutenant loves talking about her numbers and the budget and financial reports are her chance to share her love with anyone else she can force to listen."

Harm stifled a laugh as his mind thought about a young Bud Roberts, who had been a fountain of information about a number of things Harm would have been entirely happy never to have known about. He had a feeling he was going to be treated to a female version of Bud this afternoon. Looking back, he had to wonder if he had ever been that way. Maybe when he was talking about flying, the grin now coming out.

"Do you want me here for that meeting, Harm?" Alison asked.

"No, I should be good with that one. If I need you to explain anything, I can always ask you later," Harm told her, thankful that the forms and formats were standard across the Navy. Having done the budget at JAG, he knew what he would be looking at in a general sense.

Harm was looking at the computer as he replied and so missed the secret little smile that crossed Alison's face. The Lieutenant would certainly keep Harm occupied from after lunch until secure, which meant that she would have plenty of time to do more research. So far, it was fascinating the things that she had discovered and she hoped to find more today. With any luck, she'd have an excellent going away present for herself all wrapped up by Friday.


	4. Chapter 4

January 8, 2004

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

0802 Greenwich/ 1302 Eastern

Harm sat behind the desk reading through his e-mails, starting first with the official ones. By a lucky break, Alison was downstairs beginning her out-processing paperwork. This assured him that for the next couple of hours, he would not be interrupted by the woman. After the warning message by Manetti yesterday, Harm had done a lot of thinking last night after dinner. Beth and Mattie had both noticed the look and left him to his thoughts. The thing that kept coming back to him was motive and opportunity, who here would want to look at his records and why.

As he had thought about it, he was able to quickly eliminate most of the people at NAVFOREUR Headquarters. None of them had a motive for looking. Admiral Kieso had indicated having seen the files, but that had been before Harm had arrived in London, so that ruled him out as well as his aide. His first meeting with the rest of the staff wasn't scheduled until this afternoon, so unless one of them wanted to read up on him, Harm doubted they were the guilty party.

No, Harm was virtually certain the guilty party was Alison. It would explain her disappearance on Tuesday, when she hadn't returned after lunch. Where she had hid out all afternoon was beyond him, but just because he didn't know didn't mean it couldn't be done. He also realized that he had provided her with a free afternoon yesterday, while he'd been going over things with Lieutenant Haldane. So, the woman had had two days in which to go digging, bringing up the question of why she had gone digging and what had she found.

For the why, Harm had only a vague, uneasy feeling. He remembered her comment about him and Kate and couldn't help but wonder if Alison was jealous. Yes, he and Kate had had a relationship, a purely physical one. But it wasn't illegal for two consenting adults to have sex and it wasn't fraternization because neither of them reported to the other. If things had gone further or the relationship had continued after his promotion, they probably would have talked with Admiral Chegwidden. But it had ended almost as quickly as it had begun and then she was gone and Meg became his partner at JAG HQ.

"Simpkins," Harm called out, gathering his thoughts. When the Petty Office came in, Harm stopped him at the door. "I'm not to be disturbed until further notice, except by Admiral Kieso, his aide or General Creswell. Staff call is cancelled for today. If anyone has anything urgent, let me know after I get off the telephone. Close the door on your way out, please."

"Understood, Sir," Simpkins said.

Once the Petty Officer was out and the door was closed, Harm picked up the telephone and dialed. As he waited for the number to be answered, he crossed to the door and locked it. For this conversation, he definitely didn't want Alison to decide to just walk into the office.

"Commander Manetti, Sir," came a swift answer.

"Hi Tracy, it's Harm," he said with a smile.

"Good morning, Captain. How are things in London?"

"Interesting to say the least. I got your messages yesterday, thank you."

"Well, NSA was able to trace the login to a member of the FJA staff, your predecessor, Captain Krennick. She also was looking at a number of other personnel records, all related to your previous partners from your time at JAG HQ."

"I had reached a similar conclusion here, Tracy. Unfortunately, Captain Krennick and I have a previous history. When Admiral Chegwidden was first made the JAG, she was his aide. She saw me as her competition in the race for the Admiral's chair, calling me the rising star at JAG HQ. So she tried to…." Harm stopped, not really sure how to term it. It definitely wasn't seduction, which hinted at some romance. No, this was more a naked power play, using sex as a means of control.

"Are you blushing, Harm?" Tracy asked with a light laugh.

"No, just trying to come up with the proper phrase for the blatantness of her attempts to get me into her bed."

"Did you ever…."

"No, we never went there, not from lack of effort on her part. For me, I wasn't interested. Beyond the whole fraternization issue and regulations, I just don't like giving up that much control to someone else."

"Oh, and how does Mrs. Rabb feel about that," Tracy teased.

"Yellow light, Commander," Harm teased back. "But seriously, with Beth things are different. There's no thought of control, because there doesn't need to be. We love and trust one another, in everything."

Tracy could hear the change in the tone of his voice and almost sighed. She could freely admit that she'd had a little crush on Harmon Rabb and what wasn't there to crush on. A naval aviator, with the gold wings that went with it. Movie star good looks, with those eyes and that smile. That damned smile of his should be made illegal, just for the effect it had on unsuspecting women.

"You know, Harm. I hope someday I find a man who feels that way about me."

"I hope you do too, Tracy. I'm happier now than I've ever been, thanks to her."

"Well, I hate to throw cold water on this, but let's get back to Captain Krennick. What was her reaction to your rejection?" Tracy asked him.

"She just kept trying. Lieutenant Roberts joked that I threw her more red lights than the beltway at rush hour. She even tried a couple of times to set things up so we would end up out of town together, once for a weekend at Admiral Chegwidden's beach house as an officer's retreat. I got lucky to avoid that one."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Tracy had to laugh at the sheer relief in Harm's voice. Still, there was a growing angry coming to the petite Commander as she listened to the antics of Captain Krennick. Tracy had faced the same struggle that all women in the military have, of being taken seriously in a man's world. She'd put up with the comments and the off-color jokes and the attitudes. Yet, here was a female in a position of power doing exactly the thing that men tried when the situations were reversed: using her position of power as a lever to get sexual favors from those without the power. Tracy had to wonder if Krennick had continued this behavior after she'd left JAG HQ.

"Tracy, did I lose you there?" Harm asked, curious about the silence.

"Oh, sorry about that. I was just thinking," Tracy said, giving her head a shake. "How come you never reported any of this back then?"

"Macho pride, more than anything. I mean, I'm man enough to know the stories that would have made their way around if this had all come out. The rumors and suspicions that would have been enough to end my career anyway. Makes it a catch-22, doesn't it. Give in and get caught, it's fraternization and you're out of the Navy. Don't give it and report the sexual harassment, you're thought to be possibly gay and hounded out of the Navy because of it. So, I chose option C and just kept my head down, praying she'd give up and go away. Obviously, that failed too, because here we are 8 years later and she's still trying the same damned thing."

"I hate to ask this, Harm, but did you ever have a sexual relationship with any of your former partners at JAG?"

"Yes. Kate Pike and I had a fling. We were both Lieutenants at the time, we quickly realized it was a mistake and we moved on. We're still friends," Harm told her. "Meg Austin was more like a little sister to me, it hurt when she left JAG and just seemed to drop of the earth without ever saying goodbye. As for Mac, sometimes I thought we'd get there and other times the divide between us made the Grand Canyon seem small," Harm said.

"Well, my guess is that Captain Krennick is looking for dirt on you. Something she can use to get back at you for failing to respond to her advances in the manner she hoped for. Given the nature of the situation, I haven't informed SECNAV about it. I'll have to now, so be prepared. This could get ugly, Harm, depending on what she decides to do and what she thinks that she knows."

"Yeah," was all Harm said, but it was all he really needed to say. Why the hell couldn't Alison have taken a simple 'No' for an answer, both in the past as well as now? Then, all of this could have been avoided, as well as what was to come. If he knew anything about the woman, it was that she wouldn't be going quietly. An Article 32 and Court-martial was the likely end point for this.

"Harm," Tracy said, seeming to have caught his mood. "Don't do anything. In all honesty, I would try to avoid her if you can. If not, make sure there's another person around as much as you possibly can. As soon as I hang up, I'll get in to see the Secretary and let him know what's happening."

"You may want to suggest that he consider a replacement for me, Tracy."

"Not going to happen, Harm."

"Tracy, he needs to be fully prepared. If Alison gets charged, I can virtually guarantee she'll push for charges to be filed against me. Whether from my relationship with Kate or something else she'd pulled from the files, she'll throw as much crap at me as she can and hope that either it sticks or that I pull back. Trust me, whatever else the woman is, she's a very good lawyer. So, she knows that the best defense in a situation like this is to blame the victim," Harm told her.

"Well then, when I get done talking to SECNAV, how about I do some investigating of my own. Not just on your former partners, to see what Captain Krennick thinks she's found, but also on the good Captain herself. Everybody has something they want to hide, I doubt she's any different," was Tracy's measured response.

"Oh, and what do you have to hide, Commander?"

"Lots of things, including that I love stuffed animals. The other stuff, you don't need to know."

Harm laughed at that, which had been Tracy's intention. The pair talked for a couple of minutes more before Tracy hung up. Making a note, she decided to get Harm some backup over there as soon as she could arrange it. But first, she needed to brief the Secretary on the latest crisis involving Harm. Little did she, or Harm for that matter, know that some help was right around the corner.

United States Embassy – London, England

1727 Greenwich/ 2227 Eastern

Harm had left a few minutes early, so that he could meet up with Beth and they share a cab for the ride home. The weather had taken a little turn, with snow falling for much of the afternoon. Combined with the drop in temperatures, walking the two miles to home was definitely not advisable. Harm was starting to reconsider the whole not getting a car thing, but not enough to make him change his mind just yet. He'd think about it again and talk it over with Beth.

As he walked through the checkpoint, Harm held out his identification for the Marine guard. A quick check and he was waved through, only to be stopped a second later by the guard's voice.

"Captain Rabb, Sir?"

"Yes, Corporal," Harm said as he turned.

"My apologies, Sir. The First Sergeant left word that he wanted to see you, if it was convenient, Sir. If not, Sir, he asked that I present his compliments and ask when might be a more convenient time."

"Does the First Sergeant happen to have a name?"

"Sorry, Sir. The First Sergeant is First Sergeant Galindez, Sir," the Corporal reported.

"And where might I find him?" Harm asked, fighting the potential smile that was threatening. There was only one Marine NCO named Galindez that Harm could think of and he would be more than happy to see the man again. If it hadn't been for Victor, things might have turned out very differently in Paraguay. In his own mind, Harm owed the man.

"He's in his office, Sir. Down the stairs and third door on the left."

"Excellent, Corporal. I'll head there now, but you are not, repeat NOT, to call ahead and let him know I'm either in the building or on my way. Also, if Lieutenant Commander Rabb appears, tell her where to find me and that I would appreciate her joining me."

"Understood, Sir," the Corporal responded, even though it meant ignoring the First Sergeant's orders. Still, a Navy Captain outranked the First Sergeant, so the young man knew he was on solid ground. Or so he hoped.

Harm turned and made for the stairs, proceeding downstairs and immediately seeing the sign he was looking for. Walking to the door, he knocked and waited.

"Enter," came the shouted call.

Opening the door a crack, Harm spoke before he entered. "Excuse me, but I'm a little lost. Could you direct me to McMurphy's, by any chance?"

"Only if you're looking for watered down drinks served to drunken sailors," Victor said as he stood up and came around the desk as Harm fully entered the office. "It's good to see you, Sir."

"Thanks, Victor. Nice to see you back in that uniform, First Sergeant," Harm replied, pointing a finger at the new insignia. "When did that happen?"

"I was only on TAD with the Agency and when things went the hell down south, I'd had enough. So, I requested orders back to the Corps and went back to Afghanistan. Then, I got wounded three months ago, so I was transferred back stateside for treatment. My promotion came through while I was there, along with orders to the Marine Corps Embassy Security Group and assignment here as the SNCO of the detachment."

"How'd you find out I was here?"

"I was doing a walk around today, just checking things, when I heard someone say 'Commander Rabb'. After my time at JAG, it just struck me even though I wasn't really listening for it or anything. So, I stopped and listened, but I didn't hear it again. Then, as I completed my walk to the end of the corridor, I happened to see a sign above the door to the Office of Defense Cooperation with the name Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Rabb. Now, the last I remembered, you weren't married and I never heard about a sister, but still. So, I stuck my head in and asked for Commander Rabb. When she said she was, I asked if she happened to be related to you."

"Yeah, that's my bride of two weeks. We got married Christmas Eve, just before I got transferred from JAG HQ to here as the FJA for NAVFOREUR. We got lucky with the spousal colocation, with the embassy here," Harm said.

"Well, Captain, if I may say so, you've got yourself a great wife. It wasn't until after she and I finished talking that I realized I kind of knew her. That's your former RIO, Skates, right?" Victor asked.

"Yes, I am," Beth said from the doorway. "Corporal Hall said you were down here, darling."

"Indeed I am, seeing a friend," Harm told Beth, looking Victor in the eye. Despite the whole officer/enlisted thing, Harm did view the Marine as a friend. A friend to Harm was someone who had your back when the chips were down and Victor had done that a few times.

"I'm honored, Captain," Victor said with a tight smile. The Marine knew the line as well as Harm did, yet appreciated the sincerity of the words. "Ma'am, if you ever need anything, just give me a shout."

"Thank you, First Sergeant."

"We'll take good care of her for you, Captain. I promise."

"Semper Fidelis, Marine," Harm said.

"Oorah, Sir," Victor answered, braced at attention as Harm and Beth turned and exited the office. He was glad the officer seemed to understand the full meaning of what he'd said.

Harm had indeed understood and appreciated the meaning behind the words. Just as Harm never made a promise he didn't intend to keep, neither would Victor. That was the true meaning of Semper Fidelis, to be always faithful.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: A special thank you to Byrhthelm for the use of Lieutenant Annette Walker. **

January 9, 2004

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

0722 Greenwich/ 1222 Eastern

Harm arrived early for work, owing to the fact that Beth had an early meeting scheduled at the Embassy. So, rather than taking two separate taxis in, he had simply decided to go with her and spend the extra time finishing off the last few files relating to the handover. With luck, he could have those done before Alison showed up this morning. That would clear his day to work with some of the younger JAGs on their cases or investigations, meaning spending time with them rather than stuck in his office with her.

However, all of his careful planning proved to be for nothing, because as soon as he opened the door to his office, he instantly saw Alison sitting across from the desk. So, with a forced smile, he walked over to the desk and sat down. He had deliberately left the door open, wanting those in the outer office area to be able to hear what was said. That way, he had his witnesses if he needed them.

Alison, for her part, easily took in the fact that the office door was still open. She wondered why and if it was connected to her private investigation. She had tried to cover her tracks, but it was now somewhat obvious that she had failed somewhere. But, that might not necessarily be a bad things. Making Harm nervous could work to her advantage, after all. So, she kept her peace about the open door and just continued to do what she had been before he'd walked in.

The silence that filled the office grew thicker with each passing moment. Harm could almost swear that the volume of noise from the outer office also had diminished as well, as if the other personnel had realized something was going on. What he didn't know was that the open door was the signal. In her time here, Alison's office door had never been left open. So, for it to be so now, and for so long, was a signal to the staff that something was different.

It was something of a relief for the office when a trio of personnel came through the doors to the outer office, since it served to take their attention away from the doorway to the inner office. There were two Lieutenant JGs and a Legalman First Class, none of them known to the office staff. Going to the yeoman's desk, one of the Lieutenant's handed over a stack of paperwork.

"Orders to report in, yeoman second class," he said with a voice that carried into the inner office and served to bring Harm's attention from the file he was reading.

Looking up, a smile crossed his face as he recognized two of the three people standing in the space. He also suspected that their presence was backup, courtesy of Manetti. If so, at least it was two people he knew were friendly towards him.

"Captain, I have two officers and a legalman first class with orders to report in, Sir," Simpkins said as he approached the desk and handed over the paperwork.

"Send them in, please," Harm replied, as Alison got up from her seat.

"I'll step outside," was all she said before leaving the office, passing the incoming personnel as she did so. The trio marched up to the desk and braced before it.

"Lieutenant JG Tiner reporting with party of two, Sir," came a voice from the past.

"At ease, all of you. Simpkins, close the door and I'm not to be disturbed until we're finished."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"Now, I know this officer and the legalman as well, but not you, Lieutenant," Harm said, in what was correctly interpreted as a question.

"Lieutenant JG Annette Walker, Sir," the petite redhead said. The sound of her voice spoke of Texas and reminded Harm of Meg, someone he found himself thinking of since the revelations of yesterday.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. Where'd you go to law school?"

"At Georgetown, Sir. I met Lieutenant Tiner there and he's the one who convinced me to join the Navy's JAG Corps. I was pretty undecided, between the Air Force, Navy and Army, until we went out for dinner one night after class. He told me about some of the things you and Colonel MacKenzie used to get involved in. It sounded interesting, so I signed up."

"I see. Did the Navy pay for your law school, then?" Harm asked, taking an instant liking to the young woman.

"No, Sir. My uncle paid my way, as long as I agreed to either join the military or law enforcement after I graduated. Personally, I think he was hoping I'd come back home to Texas and join him," Walker said, with a relaxed smile.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Sir. My uncle's a Ranger, Sir."

Harm nodded at that. He'd often heard about Texas Rangers from Meg and knew that to be one meant something special to a Texan.

"Well, welcome to NAVFOREUR and the FJA Office," Harm said as he leaned back against the desk. "Forget any fancy notions of riveting investigations in faraway places. Here, you'll be paired with a more experienced JAG officer, who will help you gain some experience. This is your initial assignment from NJS, correct?"

"Yes, Sir," Tiner and Walker replied together.

"Excellent. For today, go down to personnel and complete your in-processing paperwork with them, then get with housing and arrange your quarters. Take the weekend to get settled in and report back here at 0800 Monday. The same goes for you, Coates. Get moving, people."

"Aye, Aye, Sir," the trio said before snapping to attention, yet there was a slight hesitation on the part of Tiner and Walker that hinted at a need to say more.

"Yes, Mister Tiner?" Harm asked.

"A moment of your time, Sir?"

"Very well. Coates, carry on. These two officers will have to find their own way without your skilled guidance."

"Yes, Sir," Coates said with a smile, before turning and exiting the office.

"What is it? Something private, I assume," Harm said.

"Somewhat, Sir. You see, Annette and … I mean, Lieutenant Walker and I…."

"What Lieutenant Tiner is trying to say, Sir, is that he and I got married on New Year's Eve."

"I see," was all Harm could think to say, as his mind raced. It struck him as strange that the pair would have been assigned together under the circumstances.

"We were initially supposed to report to the RLSO Southeast, Sir. With me going to Kings Bay Submarine Base and Lieutenant Walker reporting to NAS Jacksonville. Then, yesterday we were ordered to report to Commander Manetti at the Pentagon and were informed our orders had been changed and we were both coming here, Sir."

"And was the Commander aware of your marital status?"

"Yes, Sir. The first thing the Commander said was 'Congratulations' and that we should think of this as a wedding present, of sorts. She also included a note for you with our orders, Sir," Lieutenant Walker said.

Harm picked up the stack and quickly found the small envelope concealed in the middle of the stack. Pulling it out, he tore the flap open and removed the sheet.

"Harm,

This will be quick, since I only have a few minutes. After our talk, I realized that a few 'friendly' faces might be of some assistance in the next few days. I have not briefed them on the issues in regards to Captain Krennick. I leave that decision to you. While the Captain is scheduled to leave tomorrow, I think that may be delayed due to the ongoing investigation. If so, no doubt she'll put two and two together and come to the conclusion her snooping was discovered.

Best wishes and take care,

Tracy"

Harm looked at the paper for a moment, thinking.

"Change of plans. Once you get everything done with personnel and get your housing taken care of, you're both invited to join myself and my wife for dinner tonight. And that's not an order, just an offer. If you'd rather spend the evening getting settled in, I'd certainly understand."

Tiner and Walker exchanged a quick glance, followed by an almost imperceptible nod from the petite redhead.

"We'd be delighted, Captain," Tiner said.

Harm turned to the desk and wrote down the address on a small pad of paper, then tore off the top sheet and handed it over.

"Oh, and civilian causal is the dress code for the evening," Harm said as he escorted the pair to the door and opened it. "Stop by around 1830, alright?"

"We'll be there, Sir," Walker said and she and her husband left the office, going past a waiting Alison.

"Leave the door open, please," Harm called after them, as he went back to his desk trailed by Alison.

"I'm a little curious, Harm?"

"About what?"

"Well, as far as I know, this office is fully staffed in terms of both officers and enlisted personnel. So why are we getting two brand new, fresh from NJS, JAG officers and a legalman first class?" Allison asked, looking him square in the eye.

"The orders that came with them are fairly clear. They were posted here for their initial assignments and we are to rotate a…" Harm paused while he picked up the copy of the orders that had accompanied the trio, "a Lieutenant Harper, Lieutenant JG Martinez and a Legalman First Whitlow out. Harper will be getting orders to NAS Jacksonville, Martinez to Kings Bay Submarine Base and Whitlow to JAG HQ."

"But Harper and Martinez have only been here about a year? Why are they being transferred now, halfway through their assignment?"

"If I had to guess, it might have something to do with the shakeup of JAG assignments instituted by General Creswell and the SECNAV. I mean, look at how long I was at JAG HQ. There were other officers, both there as well as other places, who had spent at least twice as long as they should have in a position. That's not good for an officer's professional development, nor for morale. So, the General may be moving staff around to get these people into new billets as well as getting a good mix of experienced people working with newer people."

Alison just looked at Harm. Oh, she'd heard through scuttlebutt about the mess at JAG HQ and how Admiral Chegwidden had abruptly retired. What exactly had happened hadn't been known, just that Harm had been involuntarily recalled after resigning his commission. Why he'd resigned in the first place hadn't been part of the things she'd heard, nor had a rationale for it taking an order to get him back in the Navy. As to why he'd been brought back, that was something she did know about. After all, the memo about the Imes situation and checking all of her lawyer's records to make certain they were actually members of the bar had also included a description of the potential damage done in this case.

As for Harm, he just remained silent and waited for Alison to say something more. Years of practice had help give him the ability to simply wait, knowing that time and silence could work wonders. Besides, he had absolutely no clue what was going on inside her mind right now and didn't want to say something that could start a whole new topic of conversation.

The sound of the telephone ended the silence and Harm reached to pick it up.

"Captain Rabb, Sir."

"Good Morning, Captain. This is Commander Harvey down in personnel. Is Captain Krennick there, Sir?" came a woman's voice over the telephone and Harm wordlessly handed the handset over to Alison.

"This is Captain Krennick."

"Sorry for the short notice, Captain. BUPERS cancelled your orders to CINCPAC, Ma'am. New orders have come in, directing you to report to Admiral Kieso for special assignment."

"What? I've already out-processed, turned in my quarters and have seating on an Air Force C-17 leaving RAF Mildenhall this evening for Dover," Alison said, her voice rising with every word, drawing the eyes of everyone in the outer office to the doorway. Harm started to get up, intending to leave the office and close the door, so that she could have this conversation in private. One look in the angry woman's eyes was enough to stop him in his tracks, however.

"Captain, I'm just doing my job. I'll contact RAF West Ruislip and arrange for temporary quarters, Ma'am. I'll also contact the Air Force and cancel your seat. If you have any questions about your orders, Ma'am, I suggest you discuss them with Admiral Kieso."

"I intend to do just that," Alison said before slamming the handset down and storming out of the office. Harm gave her time to get out of the outer office before picking up the telephone and calling Captain Pratt's number.

"Just a head's up, Captain Krennick is on her way to see the Admiral and she's ten different degrees of pissed off right now."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll let the Admiral know, although I think the topic of their discussion is going to leave her angrier than when she arrived," Captain Pratt said. "NCIS just left after briefing the Admiral on the situation involving Captain Krennick and he's had two telephone calls from the Pentagon this morning focused on her."

Harm let out a sigh, which was unfortunately heard by the other officer.

"Is there something I need to be aware of?"

"Nothing I'm comfortable talking about, Captain," Harm replied.

"It's my job to protect the Admiral. If there's something going on…"

"If he's gotten two phone calls and a visit from NCIS, I would say that the Admiral is aware of what is going on. Wouldn't you agree? And besides that, anything that I might say to you could be misconstrued and make me liable for charges."

Now it was Pratt's turn to sigh. Damned lawyers, always worried about the legal niceties. Couldn't he just see that she wanted to do her job, which was to limit surprises like NCIS visits and investigations?

"Alright, we'll let it go. For the moment. But if this goes any further, you and I will be having this conversation again," Pratt said.

"Fair enough," was all Harm said in reply before hanging up

Grove End Road – London, England

1733 Eastern

Harm and Beth came through the door together, having managed to leave work at the same time for the second day in a row. The cynical part of Harm wondered how often that would be the case, while Beth had simply enjoyed that fact that it had. Beth went upstairs, while Harm made for the kitchen. The plan was simple: Harm would start dinner while Beth changed, then they would switch places. The menu would be relatively simple, with shrimp scampi and Caesar salads.

With Mattie gone for the weekend, Harm decided to get out a bottle of wine to go with the dinner. A nice Muscadet or Pinot Grigio would go well with the scampi, he believed. Luckily, he'd ordered some wines with their first grocery delivery. Going to the pantry, he found the little wine refrigerator that had come with the house and opened it. Looking for a moment, he found what he wanted and took the bottle out.

Beth came in then, dressed in a baby blue silk blouse and slacks. Harm smiled at his wife, who came over for a quick kiss before taking over the cooking. Harm stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

"Harm, you need to get changed, now! You told them it was causal and if they show up and find you still in your uniform, what will they think?" Beth asked rhetorically.

"Yes, Ma'am," Harm said. He took a step back, but before he turned to leave, he let his hands trail a path across her body, gently caressing her.

"Harmon Rabb, go! Now!"

Harm had a silly grin on his face as he went upstairs to change. Just the sight of Beth turned him on in ways he'd never experienced before. Annie, Jordan, Renee, even his one-time feelings for Mac paled in comparison what he felt with her. A line from a song came to mind as he changed his clothes, something about God blessing a broken road that led straight to her. That's what his life had been, a broken road. Yet, everything he'd gone through had made him who he was and placed him in Beth's life and he wouldn't trade that for anything.

When Harm came downstairs, he was wearing a gray pullover and gray slacks. Going to the kitchen, he started on the salad while Beth kept up with the scampi. Everything was just about done when there was a knock at the door. Seeing that Beth's hand were full, he went to answer it.

"Good evening, Lieutenants. Right on time, I see," Harm said with a smile. "May I take you coats?"

Jason helped Annette out of her coat and handed it to Harm before shrugging out of his. After securing them in the closet, he led the way into the kitchen where Beth was putting the serving dishes on the table.

"Lieutenants Tiner and Walker, allow me to introduce my wife, Commander Elizabeth Hawkes," Harm said. "Darling, these two just reported to the FJA's office this morning."

"I'm very pleased to meet you both," Beth said, offering her hand.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Jason said with a smile.

"Likewise, Ma'am," was Annette's reply.

"And that will be the last time we'll use ranks this evening, people. I'm Harm, she's Beth and you're Jason and Annette."

"Yes, Sir," came the chorus from the other three, drawing a sharp look from Harm until he realized how much like an order that had sounded.

"Well, dinner is ready, so why don't we all sit down and eat," Beth suggested. "Harm told me you were married a week after we were. Was that your suggestion, Annette?"

"Actually, no. Jason and I had talked about getting married, but the whole thing was a surprise he and my uncle cooked up between them. All I thought was happening was a New Year's celebration and a visit to see my uncle. I went home to Texas for the holidays and Jason came with me. He and my uncle seemed to be spending a lot of time together, which I just thought was my uncle making sure that Jason was good enough for me," Annette said.

"My dad did that to Harm when they met. It must be a guy thing."

"Probably. Anyway on New Year's Eve, my Aunt Alex came to my room carrying a dress for me to wear to the party. It was still covered in black bag, so I had to open it and there it was, just the most perfect wedding dress. Jason had seen me looking at pictures of that dress and sent the information to my Uncle Cordell, who bought it for me. He and his friends arranged everything for us, right down to inviting the JAG staff from NAS Fort Worth to serve as honor guard and perform the arched swords after the ceremony."

"Your Uncle sounds like a great guy," Harm said, catching the glint in both Beth and Annette's eyes, as well as the loving look on Jason's face.

"So, what about you, Sir?" Jason asked, only to be stopped by Harm.

"Jason, it's Harm for tonight. Remember when I gave you my cover with the scrambled eggs on it? I gave that to someone I consider a friend, not just because I was looking to throw it out and decided to just give it to you instead. In a few years, I look forward to hearing you've made Commander and earned the right to wear it."

"Thanks, Harm. Speaking of that day, I know you were single then. So, when did all of this happen?"

"Did you keep in touch with anybody at JAG after you left to ODS and then NJS?" Harm asked, wondering if the younger man knew anything of the events that had occurred.

"I got a couple of letters from the Roberts and a card from Commander Turner when I graduated NJS, but other than that, no," Jason said. "The last I had heard, you went to work for the CIA and were flying for them, then I saw your picture on the news and guessed that was over. So, what? You asked the Admiral to take you back and this time he agreed?"

"Not exactly. You remember Commander Imes, right?"

"Of course."

With that, Harm launched into the twisted tale of how he'd ended up back in the Navy, as well as being married and the father of a teenager. During the course of the story, both couples finished dinner. So, Beth cleared the table and then everyone moved into the living room to relax and listen while Harm finished up.

"Wow, that's pretty amazing, Harm," Annette said when he had finished.

"Yeah, I suppose it is. But the best part is how much I gained by going through all of that. If I hadn't gone through what I had, I probably wouldn't have met Mattie or been around her enough to see the true nature of her situation. I mean, it took me over a week to figure out her dad wasn't around. If I had just gone out there, taken my plane up and then left, I never would have known. And then there's Beth," Harm said, laying a hand on hers. "As angry as I still am about some of the things he did, I have to thank the Admiral for putting me in a place where I could reconnect with her, not just physically but also emotionally. And having you tell me you loved me was the best thing that's ever happened to me, darling."

"You say the sweetest things," Beth said as she gave him a soft kiss, mindful of their guests.

"Well, I wish I'd have been there to see the look on Lieutenant Sims' face when she had to send the pool winnings to Gunny," Jason said, with a laugh.

"What pool, Jason?" Harm asked in a deceptively gentle voice, while Beth and Annette looked on cluelessly.

"The pool she was running on you and Colonel MacKenzie getting together. I think the only people not aware of it were you and the Colonel. Even the Admiral had one hundred dollars in, set for two weeks after you two returned from Australia. The only person who bet against it happening was Gunny. He put a hundred in immediately after he and the Colonel returned from the Guadalcanal, saying that no man wanted a woman to demand he give things up as the price of being with them."

"Do you know how much he won?"

"Not exactly. The last I heard was right before you went to Paraguay, Lieutenant Sims was talking ten thousand. Everyone was so sure it would eventually happen that if they missed their first guess, they'd bet again for a new time frame."

"How much did you have in this pool, darling," Annette asked sweetly.

"Nothing. All my extra money was going for school and dating you, once we met," Jason said quickly, already schooled in exactly what that tone of voice meant coming from the redhead. Her temper could certainly match the color of her hair and he knew not to needlessly kindle the flame.

"Good answer, but I'm not buying it. How about you, Beth?"

"I agree, Annette. It was a good answer, but somehow I doubt you didn't have a couple of dollars in that pool, Jason," Beth responded. "It's alright to admit it in front of me. Heck, there was a time I would have put money in that pool if I had known about it."

That remark served to relax Jason, drawing a laugh from Harm.

"I think the First Sergeant and I need to have a word about gambling," Harm said with a grin.

"Don't you dare, Harm," Beth said in a tone that clearly denoted a line Harm would be wise not to cross.

"Do I need to pull rank, Commander?"

"No, Sir, Captain, Sir. Just as long as you don't mind sleeping on the couch, Sir."

Jason and Annette were momentarily concerned, until they saw the laughter in Harm's eyes and the love in Beth's. Then, they knew it wasn't a real argument, but rather a husband teasing his wife and her teasing him back.

The two couples settled back and spent another couple of hours chatting, before it was time for Annette and Jason to head back to the quarters they'd been assigned by the housing officer. Their belongings were due to arrive next week, so they were making do with a few things on loan from the base's stores. Still, it was better than a hotel, in Annette's mind. Harm followed them out to the road and helped wave down a taxi for the journey out to West Ruislip.

Once they were safely off, he walked back to the house and was unsurprised to find the lights downstairs off. Locking the door, he made his was up to the master bedroom and found Beth under the covers. Undressing, he quickly joined her before turning off the bed side lamp.

Visiting Officer's Quarters – RAF West Ruislip

2321 Greenwich/ 0421 Eastern

Alison had spent the evening stoking her anger with a steady diet of alcohol and cigarettes, while using her laptop and the internet connection in the room to build her case against 'righteous' Harmon Rabb. By the time of her Article 32 hearing on Monday, she intended to be more than ready to not only defend herself but also see that charges were filed against him.

Her interview with Admiral Kieso had been much shorter than she had hoped for and she'd been forced to spend three hours simply waiting until the man had had a moment to see her. When he had, he'd also had both his aide as well as his chief of staff present. In response to her justified, in her mind, demand to know what was going on, the Admiral had motioned for the chief of staff to proceed.

The man had simply laid out the facts known to them and offered several methods for resolving the issue, ranging from a punitive letter of reprimand up to an Article 32 hearing. Alison hadn't even hesitated and immediately demanded the hearing. She was convinced in her own mind that what she had done and was continuing to do was for the good of the service, versus for her own vindictive motives. It never crossed her mind that the only reason she had even thought to investigate Harm was because of his refusal to sleep with her.

What Alison didn't know, indeed what she couldn't possibly have known, was that at this very moment a flight was crossing the Atlantic. On board was a group of women who would destroy the case that she was preparing against Harm. They were joined by another group, sent out by General Creswell to oversee the hearing and handle a court-martial if necessary. Their orders were to keep it quiet, since the navy didn't need the headache of a sexual harassment case between two senior JAG officers going public.

Neither group spoke to the other, nor did the women speak to each other. The team handling the hearing, on the other hand, was having a quiet conversation amongst themselves. Largely, it was a matter of them deciding which of the two junior officers would be handling which side of the case, while Admiral Morris presided. He suspected that whatever decision the two officers arrived at, whoever had the defense would be sitting second chair to the accused. The good news, though, was that they'd all have the weekend to get over their jetlag before things started on Monday.


	6. Chapter 6

January 12, 2004

Conference Room, NAVFOREUR – London, England

0754 Greenwich/ 1254 Eastern

Admiral Morris sat patiently, watching as the NCIS agent who had conducted much of the initial investigation handed over his evidence. The agent was thoroughly prepared and had made three copies of everything, so that both sides could have the documents as well as the Admiral. He also had copies of the additional reports compiled by other NCIS agents who had handled other parts of the investigation. It was only after the agent was finished and then left the room that the trio of officers began reading.

Flanking the Admiral were the assigned defense counsel and prosecuting attorney. The duo had finally resorted to flipping a coin to decide which one got which side. Lieutenant Colonel Max Coffman had been the loser and ended up as the defense, while Commander Lynn Alexander would be prosecuting. Under normal circumstances, each of them would have retired to separate offices to go over the files and begin preparing their sides of the arguments to be made before the judge at the Article 32. However, office space was at something of a premium at the moment and therefore the conference room was the only space available for their use, other than an actual court room.

This wasn't much of a problem, since it was easy for one side to take one end of the table and the other would therefore be all the way down the table. Beside, Colonel Coffman would be leaving in an hour or two anyways. Once he'd read through the evidence, he was going out to see his client and talk with her. Just the evidence rarely told the entire story, in his opinion, and for an officer of her length of service, something else had to be involved for her to have done what was alleged. Or at least he hoped so.

For her part, Commander Alexander was fighting the urge to shake her head in disbelief. The interviews and witness statements just confounded her, reading like a bad movie. The classic woman rejected who decides to get revenge. Unfortunately for her, that plan was discovered and was also punishable under the UCMJ. Just off the top of her head, she could see violations of Articles 92, 98 and 134. Going for charges under Articles 120a and 127 would be a stretch, but she would have to do more thinking about that before she decided.

FJA Office – London, England

1142 Greenwich/ 1642 Eastern

A knock at the door brought Harm's head up. The files never seemed to stop coming, as every time he'd emptied the IN tray Simpkins was there with another stack. A tiny part of him wondered if this was just a sadistic joke being played on him by the enlisted staff, much like the new kid in school gets hazed, even though he knew it wasn't.

"Enter," he shouted.

A trim brunette of around 40 walked up and braced before his desk. Harm had never seen her before, but after taking in the three rings of a Commander and the mill-rind he was certain this was one of the officers sent over about the Krennick mess.

"Captain Rabb, my name is Commander Alexander. I've been assigned the prosecution in the Krennick Article 32 hearing," she said in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Commander, please sit down and tell me how I can help you today?"

"Well, you are the bulk of the case, so I wanted to talk to you myself, Sir. Hear your side of the story for myself."

"Where would you like me to begin?" Harm asked.

"Where else, Sir. Begin at the beginning. When was the first time you met Captain Krennick?" Commander Alexander asked, turning on her tape recorder.

"Spring of 1996. She was assigned as the prosecutor in a trial I was the defense counsel for," Harm began.

Commander Alexander took Harm through the history of his relationship with Alison, going back over the same ground multiple times. She was listening for any change in the story, any suddenly remembered details that didn't mesh with the original version, anything that just said he was lying. Yet, the story never changed, nor became more vivid. It just was what it had been. Once that was done, it was time for her to dig in. Stopping the recorder, she changed tapes and carefully marked the one she had removed.

"Now comes the big question, Captain," she said, looking him in the eye.

"Let me guess. 'Why didn't you report her back then?'" Harm said. "I've thought about that a lot, both back then and now. For the most part it was the macho image, the naval aviator of fame and legend. Shoots down Migs in the air while having pretty women falling all over him when he's on the ground, the whole Hollywood deal. The myth became the reality, so much so that any unmarried fighter pilot refusing an attractive woman became instantly suspected of being gay."

The Commander winced at the image being drawn in her mind, that of a man trapped between two nasty choices.

"Yep. I had three options, in my mind. I could give in and sleep with her, risking charges of fraternization. I could report her, which would have hung a label of "homosexual" around my neck and probably seen my career ended. Or, I could do what I did, throw her as many red lights as I possibly could and pray that she'd give up. The day I went into JAG HQ and found out she was gone, I almost jumped for joy."

"And when was that?"

"Summer of 1997," Harm answered.

"Had you had any contact with Captain Krennick in the years since?" Commander Alexander asked.

"None until I reported for duty here last week."

"So, what made her think that the…no, that's a question I need to ask her, not you. Captain, thank you for your time. If I come up with any other questions, I'll be back to see you."

Harm silently watched her put the tape recorder away before standing and leaving the office. Once she was gone, he took a moment to close his eyes and sigh. Why couldn't Alison have just stopped? Did she really think that he was going to cheat on his wife with her, that after all of the red lights back then, he was going to change his mind and say yes?

RAF West Ruislip – England

1311 Greenwich/ 1811

Colonel Coffman was beginning to regret this whole visit. Mistake number one, in his running count, was that he'd not bothered to stop for lunch before coming out here. Mistake number two had been mentioning the fact that he hadn't eaten yet to his client, with the third mistake being agreeing to have lunch with her. This had forced him to share a small table at the local pub, which she had insisted on going to. Captain Krennick had also made certain to order drinks with lunch, even knowing that he was here on duty.

Given the nature of the evidence compiled against her, Coffman was reluctant to get into the case in a public venue. This forced the pair to make mindless chitchat before and during lunch, extending into after as Alison just sat there drinking her second drink. Coffman tried to ignore the closeness of his client and the thigh pressing against his, stoically waiting for her to finish so they could go find someplace for him to interview her and talk about the hearing.

For her part, Alison was getting annoyed. She'd purposely chosen a small table to sit close to the Colonel, she'd deliberately gotten drinks and the bodily contact was supposed to be a signal that she was interested, yet he simply sat there. What was it about male Navy lawyers, were they castrated when they graduated from NJS or something. Weren't there any real men left?

Finally, seeing that she wasn't getting anywhere, Alison stood from the table and walked towards the door. Coffman hurriedly paid the bill and followed her. As they left the pub, he kept looking for a location where they could have their talk, anywhere other than the VOQ. He finally saw it just before they reached Alison's quarters. There was a small legal services office across the street. Pointing in that direction, he led the way over there and walked in.

"Good afternoon, Sir. How may we help you?" asked a young legalman second.

"I'm Colonel Coffman. I was wondering if you happened to have a room I could use, so that I could speak with my client somewhere privately."

"Yes, Sir. We have an interview room that is available. If I could just see your IDs for the log, Sir."

Both Coffman and Alison produced their ID cards and watched as a log sheet was updated with their names and ranks, then the legalman showed them to the room and left them. The pair sat down on opposite sides of the table, then Coffman opened his briefcase and removed the files.

"So, Captain. Can you give me your version of the events surrounding this case?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know what the case is. All I was told was that I was being investigated on charges preferred by the JAG and that I would be apprised of the specifics by counsel," Allison responded.

"Alright, let's try this. The evidence that has been presented to me against you is that you accessed the personnel records of a half-dozen active duty, reserve and retired personnel. That you had no reasonable need to access those records. That subsequent to your access of those records, you then accessed public records involving information you could only have gotten via those personnel records. Additionally, in the case of two of the files that you accessed, BUPERS had been instructed to refuse access without a waiver from the classifying authority. Because you accessed those records without contacting BUPERS, you were not given that waiver. In respect to that evidence, if I was the prosecutor, I would charge you with violating Articles 92, 98 and 134."

"In what respect, Colonel?" Allison asked sweetly.

"With respect to Articles 92 and 98, that you didn't follow established procedure and contact BUPERS for the requested information. The backchannel you used was reserved for emergency situations, where nobody is on duty at BUPERS and the information is needed immediately. Given that the situation wasn't urgent, you should have either called BUPERS at the time of your request or if they were closed, waited until the following day. If you had followed procedure, you would have been informed of the order refusing access to certain files you accessed," Colonel Coffman told her.

"But if the person whose information is being requested is the subject of a JAGMAN investigation, wouldn't that make getting the information potentially urgent?"

"That line of reasoning raises a very large question: who ordered the JAGMAN investigation? Captain Rabb does not report to you, he reports to COMNAVEUR and to the JAG. So, which of those two offices ordered you to launch an investigation, Captain?" After a pause to give Alison as chance to answer, the Colonel continued. "I'll assume that to mean no one gave that order. So, if there was no official investigation, then how could there have been any urgency to the request. Furthermore, for an investigation, there would have to be charges of some form. What would those charges have been, that you were investigating?"

"Possible fraternization between then Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Pike, between Rabb and Lieutenant Austin and between Rabb and Major MacKenzie," Alison told him.

"And what preliminary evidence did you have upon which to base those charges?" Coffman asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Before you began going through those individuals personnel records as well as other documents."

"I had heard a rumor that Rabb and Pike had had a sexual relationship, including spending a weekend together in a motel room."

"And was this weekend before or after Lieutenant Pike's transfer from JAG HQ?" Coffman asked, as he looked at the career timelines for both Harm and Kate. If it was before, they were the same rank and therefore neither reported to the other, per se. If after, they were not in the same chain of command and fraternization didn't necessarily apply, either.

"I don't know, Colonel. That was one of the things I was attempting to uncover," Alison said, letting a little of her frustration show through.

"That could possibly explain getting Pike's records, but not the other two."

"I was attempting to establish a possible pattern of behavior. Surely you've been an attorney long enough to grasp that."

Colonel Coffman wisely bit his tongue on the first comments that came to mind. Yes, he'd been an attorney long enough to understand the concept. But he'd also been one long enough to know better than to get caught breaking the law on a wild goose chase.

"That is certainly a line of reasoning we can present to the judge at the Article 32 hearing, Captain. It will a tough sell, but we can try. It still leaves the potential Article 134 charge that Commander Alexander will certainly request. Also, the length of time between the occurrence of the alleged fraternization and you investigating it will also be an issue."

Now it was Alison's turn to be silent. She was having her doubts about the man across the table from her. He seemed to be going through the motions, rather than having a passion for defending her. To beat this, she needed someone with that level of passion. Making a decision, she looked across the table.

"Colonel, you may let Commander Alexander know that I intend to defend myself. You may sit second chair, if you wish."

"Captain, I strongly advise against that course of action," Colonel Coffman said.

"I need a vigorous defense and I don't sense that level of commitment in you. Therefore, I will have to do it myself," Alison said.

"Very well, Captain. Here are the case files. If you'll excuse me, I'll find my way back to London now."

Alison looked at the stack of files before picking them up and following the Colonel out of the office. She went her way back to the BOQ, while he headed for the main gate and onward to the train station for the trip back to NAVFOREUR. 'This was going to be interesting,' he thought, before turning to how he was going to tell Admiral Morris and Commander Alexander. Maybe he would just tell the Admiral and let him pass the news along. If not for the potential seriousness of the situation, he could almost laugh.


	7. Chapter 7

Grove End Road – London, England

2102 Greenwich/ 0202 Eastern

Harm and Beth were snuggled on the couch, resting after dinner and then talking with Mattie about her weekend. When the teenager had arrived back home on Sunday afternoon, she'd raced upstairs to work on homework and had only reappeared for a quick dinner. While, on the one hand, this was something that pleased both parents greatly, they had also wanted to know more about her weekend too. Still, they had elected to wait rather than sit Mattie down and bombard her with questions.

So, this evening over dinner, they had learned what had happened.

"Hillary and Heather's parents were awesome," Mattie said. "The seats for the musical were five rows from the center of the stage and we could see everything."

"What did you think of it?" Beth asked.

"It was a little creepy, the way the Phantom was obsessed with Christine. But the music was really good and the effects were amazing."

"And what else did you do?" Harm asked, trying to see how things matched with what he'd been told before the weekend was scheduled.

"We had a sleepover on Friday night, like I told you. The twins had a couple of other girls from the school come, so I could meet them. One of them, Johanna Mueller, her dad's some diplomat at the German Embassy. She's a bit of a snob, all about clothes and fashion. I think Hillary and Heather are her friends because she helps them with their German and they help her with English and History," Mattie said with a shrug, knowing that it wasn't possible to be friends with everyone she met.

"And what did the sleepover consist of?"

"Girl stuff, Dad. Mr. and Mrs. Parkhurst let us use the family room and we had popcorn and watched movies and talked."

Harm was about to ask more, before Beth quietly stopped him with a hand on his and a look. She understood what had happened in ways that Harm probably never would. Nights like that are where girls trade secrets and laughs. Things not meant to be necessarily shared with their parents.

Mattie exchanged a grateful look with Beth, glad that she had understood. Growing up, she hadn't had a huge number of friends. She had often been somewhat odd, the girl who hung around airports and airplanes and knew more about changing sparkplugs than changing fashions. A part of her wondered at the type of lives people like Johanna lived, where the latest clothes were what mattered and the very thought of getting oil on your hands was disgusting. If you asked her, they could keep it.

Thinking of that made Mattie also think about Grace Aviation and the coming changes there.

"Have you heard from Tom Boone lately?" she asked.

"This afternoon, as a matter of fact, Boss," Harm told her. "He and Beth have 3 Air Tractor 802As purchased, which ate up a good chunk of that 5 million. The good news is, the hoppers on those are twice the size as on the current fleet, so our useful time should increase significantly. Also, they're all new and Beth is working out a schedule to get the pilots all trained on turboprops by the end of February. They've also hired two new mechanics trained in turboprop maintenance."

"Have they come up with any numbers on your charter plane idea?"

"Beth hasn't been able to find a jet that she likes yet, but she says that if the price of the jet is right, we can make a killing there. The DC area is screaming for private aerial taxis and a lot of what is there are prop planes. A small jet should be well set, with shuttles between DC and New York, Boston or Miami."

"Well, tell her to keep looking and we'll make a decision when she finds something," Mattie ordered.

"Yes, Boss," Harm replied with a grin.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"No, Mattie. It's your company, you make the decisions. Admiral Boone, Beth and I just work for you. We'll help you make the right ones, but that's because we want you to succeed, not because we don't think you can do the work."

"Thanks, Dad," Mattie said, giving him a hug before leaving the room.

Harm waited until he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs before taking Beth by the hand and walking into the living room. Together, the couple laid back on the couch, with Beth's back against Harm's chest. The position allowed him to wrap his arms around her, while her head rested against his shoulder.

"So, what's going on, Harm?" Beth asked, having sensed something was wrong all evening, but not wanting to say anything in front of Mattie.

"A big problem at work. Did I ever tell you that I used to know the person I'm replacing?"

Beth thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No, I don't think so."

"Almost 9 years ago now, I was a newly promoted Lieutenant Commander assigned to defend then Captain Boone at a court-martial. The woman who's the outgoing FJA was the prosecutor. After the case was over, I went back to Washington only to find that she'd been transferred to JAG HQ. From the beginning, she made two things very obvious to me: I was a threat to her ambitions and the way she intended to eliminate that threat was be getting me to sleep with her," Harm said.

"And did you?" Beth asked, turning in her husband's arms to look at him. The answer didn't really concern her and she wanted him to see that. Neither of them was a teenager. Both of them had past loves. What mattered to her was the present and the future.

"No, but not from lack of effort on her part. Alison Krennick was a physically attractive woman back then, Beth, but between the whole fraternization issue and the over-aggressiveness, I wasn't interested."

"Alright, that's the past. What makes it matter now?"

"Because she's started digging into my personnel records, along with those of every woman I've been partnered with," Harm told her.

"Did you sleep with any of them?" Beth asked, sensing where this might be going.

"My first partner, Kate Pike. It was a brief fling, nothing more than that. But, somehow Alison found out about it or heard a whisper. Whatever, she's looking for dirt on me, because I refused her."

"'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,'" Beth quoted. "You might want to remember that for the future, darling."

"Trust me, dear. I have that firmly engraved in my memory," Harm said with a smile. "And I don't think you have anything to worry about, because you're the only woman I want or need."

"I'd better be."

Harm and Beth shared a laugh at that, before he returned to the previous subject.

"Anyways, her digging was noticed by Commander Manetti, who notified me. NCIS carried out an investigation and now Alison is facing an Article 32 hearing."

'Serves the bitch right,' Beth thought to herself, before asking Harm, "Is there anything I should be concerned about?"

"I don't think so. I think the hearing will be tomorrow, but it will be over at NAVFOREUR. So, it shouldn't affect you," Harm told her. "And if she tried to come after me for fraternization, the charges wouldn't stick."

"Well, just be careful, alright?"

"Yes, dear."

"Now, how about we get to bed? We both have busy days tomorrow," Beth said before getting up and extending a hand to her husband, playfully trying to pull him from the couch before allowing herself to be pulled back down for a soft, loving kiss. After a couple of more kisses, she got up again and headed upstairs, followed by Harm.

January 13, 2004

US Embassy – London, England

0721 Greenwich/ 1221 Eastern

First Sergeant Galindez was walking along the front of the Embassy building, accomplishing two things that he considered equally important. Firstly, he was checking on his Marines. With the cold weather, he wanted to make certain they were taking care of themselves while not taking their attention off their duties. Secondly, he wanted to make certain that everything was being done correctly. That was why he made certain to not just vary his arrival times, but also the times throughout the day that he would just take a walk. Yes, London was a far cry for Kandahar, but he'd be damned if anything happened on his watch.

It was as he was approaching the entrance that he slowed, having caught sight of something he didn't particularly like. There was a woman sitting on a bench in the square across the street from the Embassy, staring intently on the entrance and its checkpoint. She was in a dark overcoat and he couldn't make out much of her face, shielded as it was by her hat. Galindez made certain that he never looked directly at her, but rather acted as if her sitting there was as naturally as the clouds in the sky.

Turning through the gate, he stopped at the checkpoint and inspected the guard. Taking care to shield himself and the young corporal from the officer, he spoke.

"How long has that woman been sitting there, Corporal?"

"She was there when I came on post at 0600, First Sergeant."

Galindez frowned at that piece of news. Why would anyone be sitting there, in the middle of January? A few moments might be just taking a last smoke break before the work day started. Almost ninety minutes was something else entirely. Thinking quickly, he made his decision. She wasn't on US property, so anything less than very subtle was out. Picking up the phone, he called down to the guard room.

"This is Galindez, listen closely. Get on the external camera system. The square across from the entrance, Caucasian female. Late 40s, dressed in a dark overcoat. I want stills good enough for identification, along with video from the time she arrived until she leaves. My desk, ASAP."

Hanging up the phone, he then spoke to the Corporal.

"When she leaves, I want to know."

"Aye, aye, First Sergeant."

With that accomplished, Galindez headed downstairs for his office. Step one would be figuring out who the woman was. Step two would be harder, figuring out what she was doing out there. The cop's intuition he had said it probably wasn't something good, but feelings didn't do it. Facts and evidence did, both of which he was well short of at the moment.

Twenty minutes later, the telephone on his desk rang.

"First Sergeant Galindez, Sir," he answered, then changed his tone. "Alright, Corporal. Was there anyone arriving while she left or just before."

"A good sized group, First Sergeant. You know, the 0800 crowd."

Galindez swore softly, realizing that was absolutely no help. Still, it wasn't the Corporal's fault and taking it out on him wasn't right.

"Alright, thanks. If she comes back, let me know immediately."

"Understood, First Sergeant. I'll update the post instructions for my relief, too."

"Outstanding," Galindez said, before hanging up. He took a small notebook from his shirt pocket and made a note. He wanted to remember to put a good word or two on the Corporal's next report. Disciplined and smart meant a lot in his world and he saw that in the younger man.

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

0804 Greenwich/ 1304 Eastern

Given the fact that Admiral Morris and the other officers dealing with the Krennick case were using the conference room, Harm had elected to move the staff meeting to his office. This was far from ideal, but it would have to do for the time being. Since it forced several of the junior officers to stand, he choose to keep things brief.

"Anything new on any of the current cases?" Harm asked.

"We should be finished with the trial in the Masterson case tomorrow," Lieutenant Harper replied, getting a nod from Harm.

"That's the Article 123a, right?"

"Yes, Sir. Chief Petty Officer Masterson is charged with writing bad checks to several businesses down in Portsmouth. The Chief's defense was that he truly believed the money was in the account and only after he had written the checks did he find out that when his wife left him, she also emptied their joint checking account."

"Why did this even go to trial?" Harm asked. "Have the Chief make restitution to the businesses and move on."

"I made that case to the Chief's CO, Sir. Commander Locke's response was that the Chief should have checked his bank balance before he wrote the checks, not after they returned. He also said that he didn't want the local businesses getting the idea that American sailors were just over here to take advantage of them. The Commander wants the book thrown at the Chief in order to set an example."

"Well, just wrap it up as quickly as you can," Harm said. "We've got a couple of new cases and don't have time to waste sending messages."

"Understood, Sir," Lieutenant Harper said.

"Good. Now, the new cases. Lieutenant Tiner, you'll work with Lieutenant Commander Hoiles on this one. USS Bunker Hill ran aground off Gibraltar and the Captain is not pleased. He's filing charges against the Officer of the Watch under Articles 86, 89 and 110."

"Understood, Sir. The Article 110 charge I understand, but the other two I'm not clear on," Tiner said as he took the file and opened it.

"It seems the OOW left her post to visit the head and was absent at the time of the collision, that's why the Article 86 charge. As for the Article 89, the Captain doesn't feel the Lieutenant was respectful enough when stating her case," Harm replied. "So, you and Hoiles will fly out to the Patrick Henry and then by helicopter to the Bunker Hill."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"Oh, and don't worry about Lieutenant Walker. She'll have plenty of work to keep her busy while you're gone," Harm added with a grin, drawing a laugh from the other officers at the comment as both Tiner and Walker blushed. "Lieutenant Walker, you're to handle a case for the Naval Attaché at the Embassy. Seems the Captain's wife had an automobile accident over the weekend. Police arrived, statements were taken and nobody went to the hospital. Well, this morning he got a telephone call from a London barrister claiming to represent the gentleman who was driving the other vehicle. The man supposedly has serious injuries and is now suing."

Taken the file he held out, Annette opened it and gave it a quick look.

"Does the Captain want me to meet with him before I see his wife or should I just call her and schedule a time?"

"He's taking a somewhat hand's off approach. He only asked that I keep an eye on the case and keep him informed of what I can. So, meet with her and get a statement, then get copies of the reports from the local police. Once you have all of that, schedule a time to meet with the man's barrister."

"Understood, Sir."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything," Harm said, getting a nod. "One last thing. You may have noticed the visiting JAGs. They're here for a case involving myself and Captain Krennick. They are not the enemy and are to be given every possible courtesy. If they approach you for assistance, fine. If not, leave them to do their jobs and you do yours. Understood?"

"Understood, Sir," came the chorus of voices back to him.

"That will be all."

Harm sat back in his chair and watched the group leave. A part of him knew he could have sent the Bunker Hill case to Naples and let them handle it, but he wanted to get Tiner started on investigations as well. This promised to be an interesting one, not to mention a good test of the Lieutenant's legal abilities.

Conference Room, NAVFOREUR – London, England

1235 Greenwich/ 1735 Eastern

Admiral Morris had been listening for the last three hours, while Alison and Commander Alexander argued in front of him. When she had first arrived that morning, he had spent twenty minutes attempting to persuade her to allow Colonel Coffman to represent her rather than defending herself. Eventually, he had stopped when he finally concluded that the Captain was simply not listening to him or anyone else and allowed her to proceed.

So now, Morris was listening while Commander Alexander outlined the government's case. Of course, he had copies of all the documents in front of him but he still needed to make certain that they had been properly obtained and a chain of custody could be established. He also knew that, unless there was something Earth-shattering revealed during the hearing, he would be ordering a court-martial before the end of the day.

"Your Honor, the Government believes there is sufficient evidence to recommend a general court-martial against Captain Alison Krennick on charges of violating Articles 92, 98, 120a, 127, 133 and 134. It is our contention that the defendant attempted to engage in an affair with Captain Harmon Rabb, that when her advances were rebuffed she turned vindictive and used her access to various systems in order to wrongfully obtain sensitive materials about Captain Rabb and his previous coworkers. It is our contention that the defendant intended to use that information to coerce him into an affair and satisfy her long-standing desires," Commander Alexander concluded.

"A nice theory that relies on speculation about motives and is not supported by the evidence," Alison said as she stood to respond. "The defense is willing to concede to a possible violation of Articles 92 and 98, though unintentional on the part of the defendant and brought on by the sense of urgency she felt to confirm a possible UCMJ violation on the part of Captain Rabb. As for Articles 120a and 127 charges, there is no evidence to support either of those."

"If I may, Your Honor," Commander Alexander said.

"Briefly, Commander."

"The Article 120a charge stems from the fact that years ago, Captain Rabb had already refused a relationship with Captain Krennick. At the time, he was single. Now, he's married and has a daughter, making it less than likely that he would now wish a relationship with the defendant. We contend that her continued pursuit amounts to stalking, Sir. As to the Article 127 charge, given the situation, we believe that a reasonable person can conclude that the defendant was seeking an advantage in her pursuit of Captain Rabb and intended to use the information she uncovered and the threat of its exposure in order to extort sexual favors in return for her silence."

"And we're back to mind reading once again, Admiral," Alison interjected. "The only person who knows what she intended is the defendant and nobody has asked her."

"Are you offering to tell us?" Commander Alexander asked in a deceptively sweet voice, dripping with sarcasm.

"Not at this time."

"That's enough, both of you," Admiral Morris said. "Captain Krennick, I believe that the government has shown enough evidence to warrant a general court-martial on all charges. Given your outstanding record prior to this, I am not ordering your confinement. However, I would like to caution you that this is contingent on your behavior. I strongly recommend that you remain at your quarters unless in court or taking meals."

"Understood, Sir," Alison replied.

"All potential witnesses are here, so I would suggest that we begin the court-martial tomorrow morning at 0900. The courtroom has been set aside for us, I'm told. I'll have the members assembled by then and we'll go from there."

"Actually, Sir. I elect to have the case judged by you alone."

"I see. A little unusual, though it is allowed under the UCMJ. May I ask why, Captain?" Morris requested of her.

"I've had numerous dealing with many of the senior staff attached to this headquarters, both personally and professionally. I have my concerns about impaneling an impartial jury," Alison said.

Admiral Morris put his hands together and closed his eyes. It was certainly rare for anyone to request that the judge be the sole decider in a case. Some were hoping the jury would deadlock, others felt that more people listening could mean a greater chance for their story to carry. However, it was ultimately her choice.

"Very well, then. I'll grant that and we'll begin tomorrow at 0900."

With that, the Admiral stood and walked out of the room. Behind him, the two women just looked at each other and smiled tightly. Commander Alexander waited for Alison to precede her, as was customary. For her part, Alison was enjoying making the other woman wait, taking her time in collecting the files before leaving the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: My apologies for an error I overlooked and a huge thanks to db1019 for catching it. The Admiral hearing the case is Admiral Morris. His first name is Stiles. I've gone back on fixed that error (I hope) in the previous chapters and humbly apologize for any confusion it may have caused. Now, on with the story.**

January 14, 2004

Grosvenor Square – London, England

0702 Greenwich/ 0202 Eastern

Alison had spent the entire evening working on her opening statement, knowing that this case would decide the fate of her career. She had to beat the majority of the charges to have any chance, yet she believed that she had a good case. There was nothing in the evidence to support an accusation of stalking and as for the extortion charge, it was laughable. She had been following the evidence, trying to build a case so that charges of fraternization could be laid against Harm. It had absolutely nothing, in her mind, to do with their personal relationship or lack of one.

She would even be willing to plead guilty on the failure to follow regulations and not complying with procedural rules and argue it was merely an excess of zeal on her part that had led her to that. She felt certain that Admiral Morris would understand that. Hell, she'd heard a rumor that Harm had even gotten away with firing a submachine gun in his courtroom, giving her cause for hope. The other two charges, conduct unbecoming and the general article charge, just seemed to be vindictive prosecution. As if the prosecutor wanted to make certain that she stayed dead, like a vampire with a stake through the heart.

So now, as prepared as she was going to be, she sat in the park and smoked. She also watched the corner, where she had seen Harm and a woman she presumed was his wife exit the taxi yesterday. Given how late they'd been yesterday, she had adjusted her timing this morning. She also wanted a closer look at the little woman, too.

Finally, after sitting there for a half hour, Alison saw them. After they had separated and Harm was safely out of view, she rose and followed behind the woman. She could now see the petite brunette was a Lieutenant Commander and the wheels started spinning fast for Alison, for she was hoping this would be more evidence for Harm violating the UCMJ with regards to fraternization.

It was only after seeing that the gate she was approaching was marked for employees only that Alison began to look for and find the other gate. Quickly going over to it, she pulled out her ID card and handed it over to the Marine guard.

"And who are you here to see, Ma'am?" the Corporal asked politely

"Lieutenant Commander Rabb, Corporal," Alison replied.

"Very good, Ma'am. I'll call her office and let them know you're here, Ma'am."

"You'll do no such thing, Corporal. You will pass me and not announce my visit, understood?"

"Ma'am, No Ma'am. Regulations require that all visitors be escorted to their destinations by either a Marine guard or someone from the destination office they wish to visit, Ma'am," the Corporal announced.

"Corporal, I am here on a JAG investigation. I do not wish my presence to be announced because I do not wish for Lieutenant Commander Rabb to suddenly be 'not in' or 'in a meeting'. Now, this is an order. You will pass me, you will not announce me and then you will forget you ever saw me," Alison said in her most menacing tone, angry at this insignificant young man for trying to stop her.

"Very well, Ma'am. Commander Rabb's office is on the third floor, suite 304," the Corporal finally said after a moment, while thinking 'God damned officers, always trying to fuck with the enlisted men.'

Alison walked past the guard and headed for the elevators. The Corporal waited until she was gone, then picked up the phone.

"First Sergeant, I have a situation. A Captain Krennick, US Navy JAG, came in. She refused to allow me to call up to the office she's visiting or assign an escort, saying she was on a JAG investigation. Also, her description matches the woman sitting in the park yesterday."

"Who is she after, Corporal?" First Sergeant Galindez asked, as he stood from his chair.

"Lieutenant Commander Rabb, First Sergeant."

"Madre de Dios. Alright, Corporal, I'll handle this. Resume your post."

Hanging up before the other man could reply, Galindez quickly dialed the security desk over at NAVFOREUR and asked to be transferred to the JAG Office.

"Force Judge Advocate's Office, Petty Officer Simpkins, Sir."

"Petty Officer, this is First Sergeant Galindez at the Embassy. I need to speak with Captain Rabb ASAP."

"One moment, First Sergeant," Simpkins said before putting the telephone on hold.

"Good morning, First Sergeant," came Harm's voice a moment later. "What's going on over at the Embassy today?"

"The guard just passed a Captain Krennick to see your wife, Captain," Galindez said. "She told the guard she's here on a JAG investigation. Also, we had spotted a woman yesterday watching the Embassy in the morning and the description matches with that of Captain Krennick."

"What the hell!?" Harm exploded before taking several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. "Alright, Victor. Thanks for the call, I'll handle it from here."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

Once he hung up, Harm exited his office and went looking for any of the officers handling Alison's court-martial. Meanwhile, Victor Galindez wasn't as confident as Harm that the officer would handle it. Instead, he picked up his service issue weapon and placed it in the holster before strapping that on. Now armed and ready, he left his office and made for the stairs. Going up them two at a time, he soon arrived on the third floor. Moving as quietly as he could, she made for the door to Beth's office but did not go in.

Rather, he simply listened and waited. He wanted to have a very good idea of what was going on before he took any action. He could hear two voices, with one doing the majority of the speaking.

"You do know that Harm and I had a relationship, don't you?" Alison asked. "Or didn't he tell you about the weekend we spent in bed at a beach house on Hilton Head?"

Beth just smiled placidly, taking a certain amusement in listening to the lies the older woman was trying to spin. None of shots were going to pierce her armor, Beth knew, because she had two important things going for her. Firstly, she truly believed that the past was the past, so even if Harm had told her last night that he had slept with Krennick, it would have just been ancient history as far as Beth cared. But the second thing was that she trusted her husband and Harm had told her that he and Krennick had never had a relationship.

"Yes, his body back then was simply amazing," Alison continued, watching the other woman. "And the stamina he possessed, he nearly wore me out."

"Well, Ma'am, I'm glad you have such happy memories of the past," Beth replied sweetly. "Or should I say, fantasies."

"Oh, and just what does that mean?"

"Harm told me all about you. How you've been hot to get in his pants for years, but never got there. And now, here you are, trying to lie to me about it. Why? Are you hoping I'll get mad and leave my husband, over something that, if it happened, happened before I even met him?"

"Actually, no. I'm just trying to get more evidence of your husband's continuing fraternizations. I mean, when did you and he start your relationship? Was it when you were shipmates on the Patrick Henry? Maybe engaging in a little hot-bunking between missions," Alison shot at her. "It wouldn't be the first time he's gotten lucky with a subordinate, you know."

"Well, Ma'am, can you really call Lieutenant Pike a subordinate when they were both the same rank at the time of their relationship," Beth replied.

"Oh, I was thinking more of Lieutenant Austin. Harm was a Lieutenant Commander then, you see, and that makes him her superior officer. You do know the reason she had to leave JAG HQ so abruptly, don't you?" Alison asked as she opened her briefcase and removed a file. "See, she got knocked up by your big stud of a husband and had to leave so she could have the baby. Here's a picture of the little girl and here's another of the girl with her mommy, the only thing missing is daddy."

Beth looked at the photos and wanted to laugh, for Alison was clearly delusion in her opinion. The little girl looked like the spitting image of her mother, with only the eyes being a tenuous tie to Harm. They were bluish-green, but Meg Austin's eyes were also green so the coloring could also be maternal in nature. So, she looked and looked before handing them back.

"I assume you have something more than pretty pictures to back up your claim, Captain?" Beth asked, watching. "Something concrete. I mean, that kid looks more like yours than Harm's."

"You mean, like DNA or the birth certificate? No, not yet, but I hope that Admiral Morris will order those once I bring this up in my defense."

"Then I suggest you pack up for bag of lies and take them with you as you leave, Ma'am. Because, frankly, you're just boring the hell out of me."

Alison was furious at the little woman standing across from her. Why couldn't see just be a good little girl and get out of the way. She was especially upset by the smile the woman wore, that teasing look that said that Alison had lost and badly at that.

"Well, Commander, don't say I didn't try to warn you when you husband is hauled away," was Alison's parting shot as she turned to the door. Going out it, she was surprised to see a Marine First Sergeant standing there.

"Excuse me, First Sergeant," she said as she stepped around him. Galindez just watched her leave before opening the door to the office and entering himself.

"Good morning, Ma'am," he said, looking at Harm's wife and enjoying the huge grin that was spread across the woman's face.

"And to you as well, First Sergeant. My only question is, how long were you standing out there?"

"How long do you want me to have been, Ma'am?"

Beth laughed at that, then the entire situation got to her and she just couldn't stop laughing. The utter stupidity of that woman, thinking that her little game would achieve anything. Obviously, she'd never been in a real relationship before, if she didn't understand the mutual trust that existed in a committed relationship.

Galindez just stood there and watched. He'd heard enough from the other side of the door to know the Captain had been tossing around lies like grenades, hoping to take someone out with the explosion. He also thought he knew Captain Rabb well enough to know those accusations were simply sound and fury signifying nothing.

Finally, Beth laughed herself out and looked a little shamefaced at Galindez.

"I'm sorry about that, First Sergeant. Should I assume that my husband knows about the Captain's visit?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I called him just before I came up here to back you up," Victor replied.

Courtroom, NAVFOREUR – London, England

0855 Greenwich/ 0355 Eastern

Alison walked through the door and momentarily paused, examining her surroundings. To her surprise, Admiral Morris was already in his seat at the beach. Commander Alexander was at the prosecution's table, while Colonel Coffman was sitting in the other chair at the defense table. Two Marines were standing on both sides of the door she had come through, as were a pair up front.

"Good of you to join us, Captain," Admiral Morris said as she approached.

"My apologies, Admiral. You said 0900 and it is 0857 now. I was unaware that you wanted to start earlier," Alison remarked as she sat down.

"Well, you're memory seems perfect in that respect. Do you happen to remember what else I said yesterday that might have importance for you today?"

"No, Sir."

"That I was not ordering your confinement, subject to your behavior, Captain. That I suggested you remain in your quarters unless here or eating your meals. Sound familiar?"

"Yes, Sir," Alison replied.

"Then, maybe you could tell me what part of that was unclear?" Admiral Morris said, his eyebrows raising. "Because I think that was crystal clear, personally."

Although she had a good idea where this was going, Alison still tried to play the innocent.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm afraid that I'm the one who doesn't understand, Sir."

"Very well, then. Captain Krennick, do you deny that you went to the United States Embassy this morning? That when you got there, you told the guard on duty that you were there to see Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Rabb? That you then told the guard to violate his standing orders and permit you to go to the Commander's office both unannounced and unaccompanied and that you claimed to be there on a JAG investigation?"

"Yes, Sir. I did visit Lieutenant Commander Rabb, as part of my defense strategy in this case," Alison said.

Both Admiral Morris and Commander Alexander looked stunned, unable to believe what they had just heard from the woman.

"Your defense strategy?! What in the hell are you talking about, Captain?" Admiral Morris yelled, his face taking on an ever darker look as his anger built.

"Yes, Sir. I plan on using an affirmative defense, in that I did what I did trying to uncover a pattern of fraternization on the part of Captain Harmon Rabb. The line begins with then Lieutenant Pike, through Lieutenant Austin and on to Lieutenant Commander Rabb. That, in each case, those relationship began while the parties were in the same chain of command and therefore contrary to the UCMJ."

"Your Honor, this is absurd. In the first place, two of the alleged incidents occurred years ago. If she had her suspicions, Captain Krennick should have said something back then. Secondly, there is no evidence of fraternization between Captain Rabb and Commander Rabb. At the time of their marriage, he was at JAG HQ and she was an instructor at the Naval Academy," Commander Alexander stated. "The Captain is simply looking for any possible excuse for something that is inexcusable. Further, considering she is facing charges of stalking and extorting Captain Rabb, she should have known better to approach Commander Rabb on her own. At a minimum, she should have taken Colonel Coffman with her."

"Why? I'm the lead counsel on this case, not him."

"Because, from the reports submitted by both Commander Rabb and First Sergeant Galindez, the visit sounds less like an interview and more like an obsessed woman trying to sabotage another person's marriage, using lies and innuendo to accomplish that," Admiral Morris said. "Like telling her that her husband fathered a child with another woman. You see, First Sergeant Galindez, who used to be a Deputy Sherriff before he came back in the Corps, was outside the door when you were saying all of this and overheard you, Captain."

"Obviously, Sir, the First Sergeant is mistaken about the tone of the conversation," Alison said as the floor dropped out from under her.

"Oh, but that's not all, Captain," Commander Alexander said. "Sergeant, would you be kind enough as to ask my witnesses to come into the courtroom, please."

The Sergeant standing at the door beside the bench opened it and went out. A couple of silent moments later, the door opened and a line of women entered the room. In front was Commander Kate Pike, followed by Lieutenant Commander Teresa Coulter, former Lieutenant Meg Austin and a young girl that Alison instantly recognized as Meg's daughter. The girl appeared to be around seven or eight and had her mother's blonde hair and features. Both Meg and the child were wearing dark blue dresses with strings of pearls.

Alison stared at the women. Kate and Meg she knew, but the Lieutenant Commander she did not. The little girl's identity was plain to see.

"I believe you know Commander Pike and Ms. Austin, Captain. Lieutenant Commander Coulter is here because Commander Manetti saw the same things you did, when she reviewed the files you accessed. She contacted Commander Coulter and asked if she could run some DNA testing on Ms. Austin's daughter, as far as determining potential paternity. Commander?"

"I was able to access the Armed Service DNA Identification Laboratory's database of all service personnel, with Captain Rabb's permission. I then took samples of Miss Austin's blood and compared her DNA to the reference sample. I can conclusively exclude Captain Rabb as the father of Patricia Austin," Teresa said.

"Then why did you name your daughter after Harm's mother?" Alison asked Meg.

"I named her after my grandmother, who died a week before I gave birth. I had hoped she'd get a chance to meet her great-granddaughter before she went, but that sadly did not happen. But she knew about the name, Patricia Catherine, before she went and she was pleased."

At that, Alison sat down and laid her head in her hands, knowing her career was finished. Her choice now was whether to fight it out or surrender. The idea of surrendering was unpalatable to her, but so was the thought of how long she could end up in prison if she fought and lost. She was certain in that event, Admiral Morris would sentence her to the longest term possible.

On her side, Commander Alexander was struggling not to look happy. She'd been handed a case that only an idiot could have lost and the defendant had simply kept digging themselves deeper, making her case that much stronger with every day. The joy, however, came from watching the deflated look on the defendant's face. In her mind, what Captain Krennick had been trying to do left a black mark on all women in the military and this outcome was needed to send as strong a message as possible about what was acceptable.

"Admiral Morris," Alison finally said. "With your permission, I would like to request a day to consider this new information and how it affects my defense strategy."

"Very well, we'll convene at 0900 tomorrow. At that time, I will hear opening arguments," Admiral Morris responded, looking at Commander Alexander who made no objections. "Sergeants, escort Captain Krennick to RAF West Ruislip and see that she doesn't leave the base without one of you accompanying her."

"Aye, aye, Sir," responded the Marines who came forward and waited for Alison to gather her belongings before escorting her from the courtroom. A huge sigh of relief came the moment the doors closed behind them.

"Commanders Pike and Coulter, Ms. Austin and Miss Austin, I thank you for your presence. I cannot yet release you, given that the trial is still pending," Admiral Morris said.

"Would it interfere with the case if I paid my respects to Captain Rabb?" Meg asked.

"No, as long as you don't discuss the case or your testimony, I have no problems with that."

"Thank you, Admiral. I'd like to say hello to an old friend and for him to meet my daughter."

Meg and Patty left then, followed by the others. At the elevators, the group watched as the Austins went through the doors to the FJA's office and smiled.

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

1053 Greenwich/ 0553 Eastern

Harm was resolutely plowing through case files, trying to keep his mind off of the events happening down the hall. When Galindez had called him about Alison being over at the Embassy to see Beth, he'd run looking for any of the officers involved with the court-martial to report the information. The first person he had found was Admiral Morris, who had instantly told Harm that he needed to leave the matter alone. Any actions taken by him could jeopardize the case against Alison, he was told.

So, reluctantly, Harm had returned to his office and left the matter with the Admiral. Still, a part of him realized that Beth had backup. Unless he was totally mistaken, Galindez had probably either gone up to Beth's office or sent someone. Still, the matter kept trickling into his thoughts until he finally heard that Alison had signed in at the security desk downstairs. Then, he was able to more fully concentrate on his work for a few moments.

Then Beth called and filled him in on what had occurred. After listening to her, he told her to write down a statement and send it over to Admiral Morris. He smiled when she told him that Galindez had already taken care of that, which was why she hadn't called him sooner. Still, they each had work to do, so the conversation was necessarily brief before she hung up.

A knock at the door ended his progress. Looking at the file for a moment, Harm marked his place and closed the cover.

"Enter!"

Simpkins opened the door slightly and stuck his head in. "Excuse me, Sir. There are two civilian woman out here asking to see you."

"What about, Simpkins? I'm up to my neck in paperwork at the moment," Harm told him.

"Not sure, Sir. She just said they were in town for a couple of days and wanted to see you before they returned home to Texas, Sir."

"Show them in, please, then don't disturb us unless it's Admiral Kieso or his aide."

Simpkins opened the door fully and Harm's suspicions were confirmed.

"Meg," he said as she walked in, trailed by a young girl that he instantly knew was her daughter.

"Hiya, Harm," Meg said as she approached the desk, which Harm was moving around.

"It's really good to see you."

"Even after I ran out on you, when you got arrested for murder?"

"I don't think you ran out on me. I was in custody for a couple of weeks while they sorted everything out and when I was released, you were gone. I asked the Admiral where you were, but all he told me was that Naval Intelligence had requested your skills," Harm said.

"I'm the one who actually requested the transfer, Harm. The night after you were arrested, I found out I was pregnant. Given some of the cases we'd been on, I worried about the stress affecting my pregnancy. So, I found a safe billet in Honolulu, working on computer hacking for Naval Intelligence until I completed my required time in uniform. After that, I took Patty back home to Texas, opened a little law office and help out on the ranch," Meg told him.

"I take it this is Patty," Harm said, looking at the young girl, whose eyes were staring at him.

"Yes, she is. Patricia Austin, this is Captain Harmon Rabb."

Harm extended his hand to the girl, who ignored it.

"So, you're the one everyone thought was my father," she accused him.

"Patricia Catherine Austin!" Meg said, angrily, before Harm waved her off.

"Well, judging by what I see, I can see where some people might have jumped to that conclusion. They'd be wrong though, Patricia. Your mother and I never had that kind of relationship, we were friends, but never…."

"You never had sex," Patty said, bluntly. "That's what you're trying not to say, right? News flash for you, but out on the ranch, you learn about those kind of things early."

Harm and Meg shared a helpless look at that before they each laughed.

"Well, there's no doubt you're Meg's daughter," Harm said with a smile. "Same sharp tongue and pretty face."

"Easy on the compliments, Harm. She's got a big enough ego as it is," Meg said.

"Grandma doesn't seem to mind. She says I should be proud of how smart I am and that I can't help being beautiful, so I should enjoy it," Patty said.

"And when she says things like that, I want to strangle her."

"I think that's illegal, even in Texas, Meg," Harm said with a laugh.

"It would be justifiable, Harm," Meg replied.

Patty just looked at them, seeing them laughing and talking. She realized that this was the first time that she could recall where her mother seemed to be fully enjoying herself. Maybe she could talk her mother into staying over in London a little longer. Her school hadn't had a problem with her taking time off, seeing as she was already a grade ahead of her age and the school as considering advancing her another grade level.

Unfortunately, the visit was cut short by the telephone. Harm did however invite them to come to dinner, once the case was over. An invitation readily accepted by both women.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: A special thank you to Saissa, for your help in getting me unstuck. A thousand thanks.**

**To all the reviewers, your words are appreciated more than you can possibly know. They make the time spent writing these stories worthwhile.**

Grove End Road – London, England

2037 Greenwich/ 1537 Eastern

Harm trudged through the door, happy that the day was finally over. After seeing Meg, he'd not had a moment's rest until he'd finally left just before 2000. First had been Admiral Kieso, wanting an update on the situation involving the USS Bunker Hill. So, he'd had to get in touch with his team on the ship and see where that investigation was at, which he knew looked like he didn't trust them to do their jobs and also only served to delay them in actually accomplishing things. Still, when a full Admiral asked, Captains wisely just snap to and get it done.

After that had been Lieutenant Walker with the accident case. The local authorities had been very helpful in giving her all the reports involving the accident. It was when she'd called the other person's barrister that she'd run into her first problem, namely he refused to see her or any American attorney. The case, he told her, was a matter of the British court system and he would only deal with someone competent to argue in a British court.

So, Harm and Annette had been forced to spend the afternoon combing through international law books. Firstly, there was the matter of diplomatic immunity, which they discovered did not extend to this type of incident. That then required a secondary search, looking to find a barrister who would assist the office with the case. Harm also had Annette contact the local hospitals, looking to see if the victim had gone to an emergency room for treatment after the accident. While she was doing that, he contacted both of the insurance companies involved and requested any claims information relating to the accident.

Just as he was getting finished with that and about to call it a day, Simpkins opened the door.

"Captain, Commander Coleman is holding on line one," he said.

"Commander Faith Coleman?" Harm asked as his eyebrows rose.

"Yes, Sir. She's the DFJA stationed down in Naples."

'Oh, God. This just keeps getting better and better,' Harm thought as he reached for the telephone.

"Rabb."

"Captain, Commander Coleman. I've got an update on the Lieutenant Stone case and you're not going to like it, Sir," came a voice he'd honestly wished never to hear again.

"What is it, Commander?" Harm asked, trying to move this along as fast as possible.

"Another female Lieutenant, found this morning by the local police. Same MO and traces of semen matches to Lieutenant Stone's attacker."

"Have you asked the local authorities if this MO matches to any unsolved cases they have?"

"They're still searching, both locally and through the Carabinieri. If they find some, they'll let us know. NCIS is also searching their files for possible matches and has ask Interpol to do the same," Coleman told him.

"I would strongly suggest issuing a warning to all naval personnel in the area. I really don't want to get a third report about this guy, unless it's to tell me he's in custody," Harm said.

"Already being done, Sir. We're currently trying to backtrack the victims' movements from discovery until they left the ship."

"Wait a minute. Was this second victim off the same ship as Lieutenant Stone, Commander?"

"Uh, yes, Sir. Lieutenant Marks was a CIC Watch Office. She and Lieutenant Stone shared a berth, given they were the only two female officers aboard the Mahan," Coleman replied.

"Alright, have NCIS stick with what they're doing. I want your office to pull the disciplinary records for the entire crew of the Mahan. Look for anyone who had a history with either of the two officers or a female officer in their past. Start with the officers and work your way down."

"You do realize you're talking about almost 300 officers and crew?"

"Yes, I am fully aware of that, Commander. But I'm not going to take the fact that both victims are from the same ship and just dismiss it as a coincidence, are you?" Harm asked, an edge to his voice. "NCIS can handle the broader suspect pool, I want us to look at that ship."

"Understood, Sir," Coleman said, mentally cursing at the task before her and her staff.

"If you have any evidence that might help eliminate suspects, use it, but I have a feeling our guy is aboard that ship," Harm told her.

"Yes, Sir. I'll get right on it," was her only reply before hanging up the telephone.

Harm sighed. Commander Coleman had not impressed him the first time they'd met and their conversation just now had only reinforced the feeling. Maybe her expertise was in a different area of the law, but investigating rapes and murders sure didn't seem to be it. A part of him wished he could fly down there and work the case, before drawing back at the realization that he was the administrator now, not the investigator. Plus, with the Krennick case going on as well as the Bunker Hill investigation, he really couldn't afford to leave London at the moment.

At that moment, he had looked at the clock and realized how late the time was. Standing up, he walked over to the coat tree and removed his trench coat and cover. Putting the coat on, he went back to the desk, collected his briefcase and left the office. Once outside, he put his cover on and flagged down a taxi for the short ride home.

Going straight through to the kitchen, he saw that Beth and Mattie had already eaten. So, he helped himself to a plate of leftovers, putting it into the microwave to heat. While he was waiting, Beth came in and sat down at the table.

"So, how was your day, darling," she asked sweetly, drawing Harm's attention away from the running microwave to her.

"Why does that tone of voice worry me so?" Harm asked.

"Because you're a lawyer and suspicious by trade?"

Harm just rolled his eyes at that comment. "Alright, I'll play. My day, aside from seeing an old friend, was miserable. Admiral Kieso is all over my six about the Bunker Hill case, the Naval Attaché's wife has a British lawyer after her for an accident she was in but he will only discuss the matter with another British lawyer and we have two murdered female Lieutenants down in Naples, both off the same ship. Oh, and the icing on the cake is I just found out my deputy is the idiot defense attorney I was assigned when I was on trial for Lieutenant Singer's murder."

"Oh, you poor baby," Beth cooed, struggling to keep from laughing at the look on his face. She wasn't making light of the murders or really any of the cases, just how her husband acted as if the world was against him sometimes struck her as humorous.

"Well, maybe if Mommy kissed it, it would make it better," Harm replied, seeing the look on her face and knowing he'd sounded like a little kid crying about how mean his teacher was.

"I thought you'd never ask."

However, the microwave had other ideas, as it announced that Harm's dinner was ready. Taking it out and carrying it to the table, he sat down and quickly ate.

"So, how was your day?" Harm asked.

"Oh, aside from a certain Captain Bitch stopping by this morning, my day was sweetness and light," Beth replied, a huge grin on her face.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Beth."

"I'm not. I wanted her to know, in no uncertain terms, that you are mine and that she can't have you. Plus, listening to her lies and fantasies was sort of entertaining. Once she gets out of prison, maybe she can get a job writing scripts for television shows."

Harm had to laugh a little at that, trying to picture Alison working in Hollywood. Beth kept smiling, glad to see an improvement in her husband's mood. She'd dealt with surly Harm a time or two on the Patrick Henry and she planned on doing her best to see that man never took up residence in her house.

"So, Mattie upstairs doing homework?" Harm asked.

"Yeah. She was on the telephone earlier with Hillary or Heather or maybe both and they want to know if they can come over this weekend and hang out. Mattie told them she'd have to ask," Beth replied, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

"I don't see a problem with that. I'm not supposed to be going anywhere and I think it would be nice to meet Mattie's friends."

"I thought so, that's why I told Mattie that they could spend the weekend if they want. I also gave her the rules, too."

"Let me guess: no boys, no booze and no all-night partying," Harm said with a grin.

"Close, dear. Definitely no boys allowed and no drugs of any kind. The partying, though. I just told her they needed to keep the noise down overnight. But homework needs to be caught up, too," Beth told him. "They're teenagers, Harm, not little kids. We can give them a little room to just be teens."

Harm just looked at her, reflecting on the difference in their backgrounds. When he'd been just a couple of years older than Mattie, he'd been slogging through the jungles of Southeast Asia with Colonel Striker looking for his father. Maybe one day he'd tell Beth about that summer, about how he'd deceived his mother and Frank and just disappeared. About the worry he'd put them through. Oh, the things an obsession could make you do, especially when you're too young to realize the danger.

January 15, 2004

Courtroom, NAVFOREUR – London, England

0853 Greenwich/ 0353 Eastern

Having been apprised that both side were already present, Admiral Morris had decided to get started a few minutes early today. After the fireworks of yesterday, he wondered what might happen today and figured he might need the extra time to deal with that. Now, upon entering the courtroom, he kept his expression neutral as he settled himself in his seat. Once he was seated, the others sat down as well.

"Are we prepared to proceed today?" he asked both sides.

"Yes, Your Honor," both Commander Alexander and Alison said.

"Very well. I'll hear opening arguments."

"Your Honor, the government will show that the defendant, Captain Alison Krennick, did willfully and knowingly violate numerous Articles of the UCMJ. That is, she stalked Captain Harmon Rabb over a period of several years. That, after he again failed to respond to her desires for a sexual relationship, the defendant did engage in unlawfully obtaining information that was intended to either coerce Captain Rabb into giving in to her or to punish him for his failure to do so. As well, these actions were conduct unbecoming of an officer. By these actions, she is in violation of Articles 92, 98, 120a, 127, 133 and 134 and must be found guilty," Commander Alexander said.

"Your Honor, the defense contends that what exists in a simple case of misunderstanding on the parts of both Captains Rabb and Krennick. When this began, there was a mutual attraction that existed between the two officers and flirting occurred on more than one occasion, as well as other things. When Captain Rabb was posted to London, the defendant decided to see if that attraction still existed and having cause to believe it did, wanted to see where it might lead. Again, a misunderstanding between the two officers, which could have and should have been dealt with between them. As to her digging through various records, the defendant contends that she was simply following up on information she remembered and that it was not meant to coerce or extort Captain Rabb, but rather to determine if cause existed to charge Captain Rabb with fraternization with former subordinates and that the Article 92 and 98 violations arise from an excess in zeal rather than from any malice. Given these facts, the only possible verdict is not guilty," Alison said, sitting back down once she had finished.

"Very well," Admiral Morris said, fighting to keep from raising an eyebrow at Alison's assertions. "Commander Alexander, you may call your first witness."

"The government calls Agent Carl Weber," Commander Alexander said.

A door was opened by a bailiff who called for the NCIS Agent. A moment later, he was seating on the stand and sworn in.

"Please, state your name and duty station?" Alexander asked.

"Carl Weber and I'm the lead NCIS agent assigned to NAVFOREUR," the agent said.

"And who long have you been assigned here and with NCIS?"

"I've been with NCIS for 10 years, assigned to London for 2 of them. Before NCIS, I was with the NYPD for 20 years."

"Your Honor?" Alison asked.

"Yes, Captain."

"In the interest of time, the defense is willing to stipulate to it being the defendant who accessed the various records at issue."

"Commander, did you have any other topic to cover with this witness?" Admiral Morris asked.

"No, Sir," Alexander said.

"Very well, then. Agent Weber, you're excused. Call your next witness, Commander."

"The government calls Captain Harmon Rabb."

The bailiff, who was holding the door open, let Agent Weber pass before motioning for Harm to enter the courtroom. Walking to the stand, Harm kept his eyes straight ahead until he was seated. Then, he neither looked at Alison nor away from her, instead choosing to look back up the aisle towards the door. By doing this, he could see both tables as well as Admiral Morris out of the corner of his eye. Once he was sworn in, Commander Alexander approached.

"Please, state your name, rank and current duty station."

"Captain Harmon Rabb Junior, Judge Advocate's General Corps. I'm the Force Judge Advocate for NAVFOREUR," Harm replied.

"When did you first meet the defendant, Captain?"

"In March of 1996. She was then a Commander and assigned as trial counsel for a court-martial I was defense counsel of. At the time, I was a newly promoted Lieutenant Commander."

"And was that also when she began to sexually harass you, Captain?"

"No, that occurred after she was assigned to JAG Headquarters as aide to Admiral Chegwidden. She showed up at my apartment unannounced as I was making breakfast. When she knocked, I announced that the door was open, not realizing that it was Commander Krennick on the other side. She was out for a bike ride, wearing a skintight riding outfit. When she was inside my apartment was the first time she let me know she wanted to have a sexual relationship with me," Harm said.

"Even though she both outranked you and, as aide to your commanding officer, could be considered a part of your chain of command?" Commander Alexander asked.

"Yes."

"And did this behavior continue, Captain?"

"Yes, it did. On a case I was assigned, I needed to ask for some assistance from Commander Krennick. When she came down to bring me the information I needed, she mentioned an officer's retreat at Admiral Chegwidden's beach house on Hilton Head for that weekend. When I said I might have to give my regrets to the Admiral, she said that she and I were going to be the only two there," Harm said.

"And you took that to mean?" Commander Alexander asked.

"That my services as stud were the price she was demanding for the information she'd gotten for me and that the use of the Admiral's beach house was intended as cover, in case anyone asked questions. Not to mention the implication that Admiral Chegwidden had to have known and approved of her version of what was scheduled, cutting me off for filing any complaint with him."

"Objection, your Honor. Captain Rabb has no way of knowing what Admiral Chegwidden might have known about our use of the beach house," Alison said.

"Overruled, Captain. Captain Rabb is stating a belief that he held, based on what he inferred. Continue, Commander."

"Were there other occasions similar to that?"

"Yes. After a case in Cuba, she came over to my apartment unannounced and suggest that she needed a hot bath, a good breakfast and a long weekend in bed as she headed for my bathroom, clearly intending to take her bath there. She asked if I was up for it," Harm replied.

"All of those incidents you've mentioned were from 1996, were there any more recently?"

"When I was first assigned here, she made a comment about how I would have enjoyed her being in charge, sexually speaking."

"I have nothing further for this witness, your Honor," Commander Alexander said.

"Captain, you may proceed," Admiral Morris said to Alison.

"Yes, your Honor. Captain Rabb, do you remember remarking to me that you found me attractive?" Alison asked.

"Yes, I remember that. I also said…" Harm started to say, before Alison stopped him.

"A simple yes or no is all that is required, Captain. Now, was this a new opinion?"

"No, it is not."

"So, back in 1996, you thought of me as an attractive woman?"

"Yes."

"At one point, when I suggested that we take a bath together, you asked for a rain check, did you not?" Alison asked.

"Yes, but …" Harm again tried to add, seeing clearly where she was going.

"Again, Captain, a simple yes or no is all that's required. So, if I noticed your attraction and remembered the offered rain check, would it have been unreasonable for me to have suggested a means for us to get together without it coming to most people's attentions?"

"No."

"And, when I stated my intention to sleep with you, did you give me a yellow or red light at that time?"

"No, I did not," Harm said.

"So, with the previous questions in mind, would it have been reasonable for me to believe that you wanted a sexually relationship with me?" Alison asked.

"In that light, possibly."

"Come now, Captain. Only possibly? A woman sees that a man finds her attractive, she tells the man she wants to sleep with him and the man doesn't say no. How would you view that in my shoes?"

"Well, Captain, I can't speak for your shoes. But, I believed that I could handle the situation. That in the Navy at that time, a man announcing that he was being sexually harassed was tantamount to saying he was homosexual. That to have done so would have ended my career. So, I did my best after that to avoid situations where we might be alone together," Harm said.

"So, why did you go to Hilton Head with me?" Alison asked.

"I didn't go to Hilton Head with you."

"Well, I'm sorry that the weekend wasn't, apparently, as memorable for you as it was for me. Because I remember every detail of our time together there. Not to mention, I have bank records confirming we were down there."

Alison went to the defense table, picked up a folder and handed it to Admiral Morris.

"This is a copy of my bank statement for the time period in question, with the specific purchases highlighted. Note the location listed for those purchases," Alison told the Judge.

"Objection, your Honor. The defense has not been given a copy of this," Commander Alexander said.

"I am merely attempting to refute Captain Rabb's assertion that he and I did not have a consensual sexual relationship at that time, your Honor."

"I agree, the defense has the right to produce documents challenging the statements of a witness. Your questioning in direct opened the door for this, Commander. Overruled," Admiral Morris said.

"So, Captain. In the light of this, would you care to change your answer?" Alison asked sweetly.

"No, I would not. I don't know who went to Hilton Head with you that weekend, but it was not me."

"Why, because you would never engage in fraternization?"

"No, because I wouldn't with you, Captain," Harm replied harshly, his anger rising. "Because, for you, the relationship was about two things and two things only. You saw me then as an obstacle to your ambitions that you wanted something on, in order to control me, and you were just looking for someone to take care of your sexual needs."

"So, if, as you claim, you weren't going to engage in fraternization with me, was it because you were already engaged in fraternizing with Lieutenant Caitlin Pike and Lieutenant Megan Austin?" Alison asked.

"I never had a sexual relationship with Meg. And while I did have one with Kate, it began while we were both Lieutenants and therefore no fraternization occurred."

"And it did not continue after you were promoted to Lieutenant Commander?"

"It did, but by that point, Kate had been transferred from JAG HQ and was not in my chain of command," Harm replied.

"So, in the face of the evidence and your own testimony, we're really supposed to believe that you never engaged in sex with me?" Alison asked.

"Captain, I have never had sex with you."

"I have nothing further for this witness."

"Commander?" Admiral Morris asked.

"Not at this time, but I do reserve the right to recall him," Commander Alexander told the Admiral, looking down at her hands. She knew what Krennick had been trying to do, establish doubts about Rabb's credibility. Given the story Krennick had told, she may have succeeded in doing so. So, now it would require some digging to find evidence that it had not been Rabb down in Hilton Head with her, otherwise the Admiral would probably side with the evidence. The one positive, if you could call it that, was that if Admiral Morris did believe the story, then Krennick had just confessed to fraternization. Unfortunately, in order to charge her, Rabb would also have to be charged.

Admiral Morris, for his part, looked towards the clock and saw it was almost 1200. He figured that now would be a good time for lunch, with the case restarting at 1330, rather than moving on to another witness.

"Court will be in recess until 1330. Captain Rabb, you're excused pending possible recall. Remember, you are still under oath and are not to speak with anyone about this case."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Harm responded, rising as did everyone else as Admiral Morris exited the courtroom. Once the Admiral was gone, he happened to look over at the defense table and caught a wide grin spread out over Alison's face. Walking out of the courtroom, Harm made straight for his office and slammed the door behind him. The lies by Alison had infuriated him and worse was the way Admiral Morris seemed to be eating them up.

A knock on the door brought Harm from his thoughts.

"Enter!" he bellowed, not realizing how much like Admiral Chegwidden he'd just sounded.

"Well, that was a disaster," Commander Alexander said after she'd entered the room and closed the door behind her. "Harm, do you have any proof you weren't in Hilton Head with her?"

"Let me see if I can find my day planner from 1996, I'm sure I've got it notated right there."

"I can really do without the sarcasm, thank you."

"Sorry, Commander," Harm said, knowing in his heart that she didn't deserve the abuse. The problem was, he simply didn't have the evidence. He doubted whether he had bank records from eight years ago and even if he did, they'd be at the house in Falls Church. One thing living in the loft had taught him, get rid of things you don't need and useless paper was one thing he didn't need.

"I've got an hour to pull a rabbit out of my hat. Can you call your bank and see if they'll either fax a certified copy of your statements from back then or overnight them? While you're doing that, I'll see what I can come up with based on her bank statement."

"It will have to be in a couple of hours, considering it's only a little after 0700 and the bank doesn't open until 0900."

"Still, see if you can get that as soon as possible, please," Commander Alexander said, before leaving the office and heading for a quick lunch, then those records.

For his part, Harm had absolutely no desire for lunch. Rather, he just sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, wishing the migraine that was starting would go away. Knowing that wishing wouldn't help, he opened the desk drawer and removed a bottle of aspirin. Shaking two out, he forced them down before closing his eyes again. The day could not end soon enough for him.


	10. Chapter 10

1334 Greenwich/ 0834 Eastern

Courtroom, NAVFOREUR – London, England

Admiral Morris had been very pleased to see that everyone had come back from the lunch recess on time, meaning that he could continue moving the trial along. The sooner this case was over, the happier he would be. So, he looked over at the prosecution table and nodded.

"The government calls Megan Austin," Commander Alexander said. She had spent her lunch hour eating a salad, while also going through her notes. She had then tracked down former Lieutenant Austin and asked a few questions, brought on by Captain Krennick's cross-examination of Rabb.

The bailiff opened the real door and motioned for Meg to enter the courtroom. Even almost five years removed from the Navy, she still stood at attention as the oath was administered. Being a single mother had been hard while she was in the service, so she had resigned her commission as soon as she had fulfilled her obligation. Back home in Texas, she'd had her family to help with Patty. Still, a part of her missed the Navy and the friends she'd made, but she wouldn't have traded having Patty for all of that.

"Ms. Austin, thank you so much for being here today," Alexander said. "Hopefully, we can be brief and allow you to return home."

"Take as much time as is required, Commander," Meg replied to her. "I was a JAG once, I know the job."

"As you said, you were a JAG once. How long was that?"

"I passed NJS in the summer of 1995 and was assigned to JAG HQ shortly thereafter. Even after my transfer from JAG HQ in June of 1996, I remained a JAG officer until I resigned in early 2001."

"And you were partnered with then Lieutenant Harmon Rabb?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," Meg replied.

"So, you were his partner for the case where then Commander Krennick was the prosecutor?"

"Yes, Ma'am. It was Captain Boone's court-martial in Naples. He was the CAG aboard the USS Seahawk at the time."

"And at that time, did you notice anything with regards to Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Commander Krennick?" Alexander asked.

"No, Ma'am. They seemed to be butting heads a little, but Harm, I mean Commander Rabb, was always zealous in defense of his clients. Commander Krennick was looking at the bigger picture, politically, and also trying to win her case," Meg said.

"And what about later, after Commander Krennick was assigned to JAG HQ as Admiral Chegwidden's aide?"

"There was definitely some sexual tension in the air. Commander Krennick was definitely interested in Commander Rabb, I could tell that. Whether he was as interested in her, I'm not sure. I know he had a relationship with Lieutenant Pike around that time, as well as an Iberian Airlines stewardess, Maria Elena Carmelita Moreno Gutierrez."

"Would you say that Commander Rabb had an active social life, Ms. Austin?" Commander Alexander asked.

"No more so that any number of single officers I can think of, Ma'am. He was a handsome man, living in Washington DC and a naval aviator too," Meg replied.

"Were you attracted to him, Ms. Austin?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I was. But I knew he wasn't attracted to me, other than as a sister he'd never had. I tried a couple of times to get a reaction from him, but it was never more than what it was."

"Now, do you remember an occasion where Commander Krennick and Commander Rabb went away together?" Alexander asked.

"Objection, your Honor. How would Ms. Austin know if Commander Rabb and I had gone away together?" Alison asked.

"Sustained," Admiral Morris said.

"Allow me to rephrase, then. Ms. Austin, in April of 1996, were you and Commander Rabb assigned an investigation down at Quantico, involving a Gunnery Sergeant Crockett?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He had been accused to trying to kill his Commander Officer, a Colonel Gordon."

"Now, during that investigation, was Commander Krennick involved?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. Most of the Gunny's records were classified. Commander Rabb asked for Commander Krennick's help in getting access to those records. She managed to get them and brought them down to us, then stayed until the investigation was concluded," Meg told her.

"Was there anything else about that investigation that stood out to you?"

"Once the investigation was wrapped up, Commander Krennick dismissed me for the weekend with orders to report for duty at 0700 on Monday. Then, Admiral Chegwidden invited Commander Rabb to join him and Gunny Crockett for drinks. I asked Commander Krennick after Commander Rabb had gone to join the Admiral if she had plans for the weekend and she said not anymore. I noticed that she was looking over to where Commander Rabb was as she said that and she looked really upset that he'd joined the Admiral."

"And for the record, would you read the highlighted portion of these two documents?" Alexander asked, picking up two documents and handing them to Meg.

"The first document is the case file regarding the investigation of Gunnery Sergeant Crockett. Judgment entered against Gunnery Sergeant at MCRDC on April 5, 1996 for destruction of miscellaneous government property. The second document is a bank statement, listing a transaction at Avis Rent-A-Car in Savannah, Georgia on April 5, 1996," Meg said.

"Objection, the defense has not seen those documents, your Honor," Alison said.

"Actually, the second document is the bank statement you submitted as evidence this morning, Captain," Commander Alexander replied.

"That still does not negate the fact that the other document has not been supplied to the defense. Therefore, it is inadmissible and the testimony arising from it should be disregarded."

"The first document is a matter of public record, your Honor. If you would note the time/date stamp at the bottom of the page, I accessed that document not ten minutes before we resumed and did so only based on the testimony given this morning by Captain Rabb in response to Captain Krennick's assertion of a romantic weekend away on that weekend."

"Enough," Admiral Morris said. "This court will be in recess, while I retire to consider the arguments raised by this issue."

Alison, Commander Alexander and Meg all stood up, while Admiral Morris left the courtroom. His first stop was the law library, where he sat down at a computer terminal after grabbing a copy of the UCMJ. This was going to be a tricky matter to decide, because of the time issue. Per the UCMJ, the prosecution was obligated to share its documents with the defense. The defense, however, was only required to share documents it intended to use when presenting its side of the case, not when rebutting a prosecution witness. So, while the bank statement was legally admissible, the case record of the Crockett investigation was not.

However, Admiral Morris was reluctant to dismiss Ms. Austin's testimony of that day entirely, given that the case file had merely provided an exact date. It had not produced the memories of the witness. Yet, the Admiral knew that just such a dismissal was what Captain Krennick was looking for, because that testimony cast significant doubts on the defense's version of events.

Standing, he took a deep breath before leaving the law library and heading back to the courtroom. Going back inside, he resumed his place on the bench and looked at the trial counsel.

"I must find in favor of the defense on this matter. The objection is sustained. However, this only relates to the testimony regarding the two documents Ms. Austin read. The remainder of her testimony is unaffected by the ruling, because the documents had no influence on her testimony other than to provide the specific date," Admiral Morris said.

"In that case, your Honor," Alexander said, beating Alison to her feet, "I would like to amend my witness list and add Admiral AJ Chegwidden, retired."

"Your Honor, this is clearly an attempt by the prosecution to get around your ruling. Now that they have the date, they'll make certain that I am given the documents well before they can get Admiral Chegwidden here from the States," Alison said, clearly objecting.

"Is that the only matter you wish to raise with Admiral Chegwidden, Commander?"

"Since he can confirm or refute whether Captain Rabb joined him for drinks, I feel it probative to have him testify. To that end, I will be handing to the defense new documents I intend to enter as evidence, such as base security logs showing when Admiral Chegwidden arrived and departed Quantico."

"You really believe you can get those, or that they still exist?" Alison asked with a smirk.

"Captain, I intend to do everything I can to prove you're lying. If that means getting JAG officers digging through dusty boxes looking for security logs or any other possible documents that can establish a date and time frame, I intend to do so," Alexander countered.

"Commander, I'll amend your witness list, but I will not allow you to call Admiral Chegwidden to the stand unless you can provide admissible documentation to support calling him. Understood?" Admiral Morris asked, fixing her with a hard look.

"Yes, Sir."

"Very well. You may continue your direct of Ms. Austin."

"Thank you, your Honor. Ms. Austin, was there ever another time when then Commander Krennick's relationship with then Lieutenant Commander Rabb came up?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. A few weeks later, we were in Hong Kong when Commander Rabb went missing while out sailing. Commander Krennick and I went to meet with someone who might have information about his disappearance. While we were waiting, we talked and she made a comment that I was wondering if she'd ever slept with Commander Rabb. I denied it at first, before admitting I was. She told me that they had never slept together," Meg said.

"Thank you, Ms. Austin. Your witness, Captain."

"Good afternoon, Ms. Austin," Alison said as she approached the stand.

"Ma'am."

"I have just a few questions for you. Let's start with an easy one. Were you in love with Commander Rabb when you worked for him?"

"I don't know about in love, but I was attracted to him, yes," Meg replied.

"So much so that you once told me you regretted not sleeping with him yourself?" Alison asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. I did have that regret."

"Was there ever a time when you lied to cover for Commander Rabb?"

"Yes, Ma'am. As you well know, including the morning I was shot," Meg said.

Alison paused briefly, remembering that day clearly. The assassin shooting Meg, moving closer to finish her off when Alison had stepped back into the room. The bullet missing her as she ran screaming for security. The blood on her shirt when they reached the hospital, Meg's blood. Taking a quick breath to center herself, Alison plunged on.

"So, you've lied for him in the past, to protect him and cover for him. Why should we now believe you? Shouldn't we, based on that history, think this is just another attempt to cover for him on your part, Ms. Austin?"

"Well, there is one big difference between then and now, Captain. Today, I placed a hand on the bible and took an oath before God to tell the truth. I'm an officer of the court, a member of the state bar associations in Texas, New Mexico and Oklahoma. If I lie on the stand, I can be tried in federal court on perjury charges and lose my law license, not to mention possibly going to prison and not seeing my daughter grow up. In the face of all that, you really think I'd lie," Meg replied.

"A nice speech, but it really doesn't answer the question," Alison said back to her.

"Sorry, it's the only answer I've got, because nothing I can say will ever convince you that I'm not lying. My lying solves all your problems, so you're already of the opinion that anything I say is a lie. If I said 'the sky is blue', you'd still accuse me of lying. So, there's really nothing for me to say, is there?"

"I have nothing more for this witness."

"Commander, redirect," Admiral Morris said.

"The incident that Captain Krennick referred to, where you lied for Captain Rabb? What was the exact nature of the incident?" Alexander asked.

"He was going to meet a friend for lunch and asked me to cover for him by saying he was in the law library doing research if Commander Krennick came looking for him."

"And you told that to Commander Krennick?"

"Yes, Ma'am. She knew instantly that I was covering for him and I confessed, whereupon she directed that I have him see her immediately after he returned from lunch," Meg replied.

"Thank you, Ms. Austin. That will be all," Alexander said.

Meg stood from the stand and walked to the rear of the courtroom. The bailiff held the door open for her and she exited into the hallway, where Patty sat reading a book while she waited. Patty closed the book when she saw her mother approaching and stood up.

"Are you finished, Mom?"

"Looks like it, honey. So, I thought we'd go back to the hotel and get changed, then do a little shopping. How does that sound?" Meg asked.

"Alright, I guess," Patty said.

"We'll go to the Tower of London tomorrow, I promise. And tonight, we'll see if we can get tickets to a musical or play for either tonight or tomorrow evening."

That news served to bring a smile to Patty's face. The young girl wasn't into the typical girly things, like dresses and shopping. She preferred to spend her time reading, studying or riding a horse. So, since they were in London, she wanted to see museums and things like Big Ben and the Tower of London. Not spend her time looking at dresses, which is what she strongly suspected her mother had planned for their shopping trip.

Back in the courtroom, Admiral Morris took a look at the clock. With the time spend deciding on the various objections, it was well past 1600. Starting on a new witness struck him as counterproductive. So, rather than do that, he recessed the trial until 0900 tomorrow.


	11. Chapter 11

Grove End Road – London, England

1722 Greenwich/ 1222 Eastern

Harm was alone when he arrived home. Beth had been stuck in another meeting and had left word with the Embassy guard for him, saying she didn't know how long she'd be. So, rather than wait around, he caught a taxi. Leaving his briefcase by the front stairs, he put his coat and cover in the closet before heading for the kitchen.

There, he found Mattie hard at work on her school work. Judging by the papers he could see, it was mathematics of some kind. Still, he left her to it while he started laying out things for dinner. He decided on a tuna casserole with a garden salad. He'd eat a little of the casserole, while having more of the salad, trusting that between Mattie and Beth the remainder of the casserole would disappear.

While he worked on the casserole, he set the oven to preheat. He knew that by the time he'd finished, the oven would be ready. Then, he could go get changed and relax for a little while before making the salad. Just as he was finishing, the telephone rang. Seeing that Mattie was absorbed in her homework, Harm went to answer it.

"Captain Rabb's residence."

"Captain, Commander Alexander," came the voice on the other end. "Were you able to get copies of your bank records, Sir?"

"Unfortunately, no. The bank said that they don't keep those files past five years and that my files from 1996 would have been destroyed in 2001 or 2002," Harm told her.

"And you're positive you didn't keep a copy of them?"

"Not 100 percent, no. But if the records do exist, they're at my house in Falls Church and I'm here in London."

"Damn, I need something, Captain. Because right now, Captain Krennick is having a field day turning this into a mutual relationship and that you're the playboy of the Navy. Heck, she got Ms. Austin to admit that she was, if not in love with you, at the very least attracted to you and that you'd had relationships with Commander Pike and some stewardess back then as well," Commander Alexander complained.

"Let me see if I can help, Commander," Harm told her. "Let's start with the assumption that she and I went down to Hilton Head. Ok, how did we get there?"

"You had to have flown. Driving from Quantico to Hilton Head would have killed most of a day, then the drive back to Washington would have killed another."

"Very good. Now, on Captain Krennick's bank statement, does it list an airline or travel agency?"

"No. There are a number of purchases down in and around Hilton Head, but nothing on how she got down there," Commander Alexander told him.

"Which leads me to believe that she flew military down from Quantico, probably out of Andrews. Land at MCAS Beaufort and you're an hour out of Hilton Head," Harm replied.

"And, this being the Navy, I'll bet there are records somewhere."

"Exactly, Commander. I'd concentrate on that entire weekend, not just Friday. See if you can find the flight she took down there as well as the one she came back on. Also, see if you can get the records of every flight into and out of Beaufort that entire weekend, just so she can't try to claim we traveled separately to avoid suspicion."

"Well, that gives me some ground to cover, Captain," Commander Alexander said.

"I'd offer my staff's services, but I think it would be better if the data came from JAG HQ or NCIS. That way, Captain Krennick can't claim that we've deliberately hidden information or falsified documents," Harm told her.

"Let me get on it then, Captain."

Harm looked at the phone in surprise, realizing that the woman had hung up without a further word. Putting down the telephone, he saw that the casserole was almost done. So, changing out of his uniform would have to wait, while he fixed the salad that would accompany dinner.

"What was that all about, Dad?" Mattie asked from the table.

"A case at work," Harm replied, not wanting to get into it with the teen.

"Oh, a case involving you personally?"

"And what makes you say that, Boss?"

"Nice try, but I was sitting right here and heard your side of the conversation. You said 'we', not 'they' and you mentioned your bank account records. So, obviously, if you were talking to someone about a case, it has to involve you," Mattie said, while flashing Harm a look at that screamed 'Do I look stupid!'

"Alright, it is a case that involves me. The officer I replaced here is on trial for stalking me and trying to dig up dirt on me. Her defense is that we had a relationship in the past," Harm told her.

"You mean, you guys were having sex?"

"That's what she's trying to claim. The problem is, the only evidence that exists at the moment appears to support her claim to an extent. That was the Commander who is prosecuting her, seeing if I had managed to get anything to refute the claim."

"Does Beth know about all this?" Mattie asked.

"Yes, she and I have talked about the problem. But the claim by Alison was just made today, so I haven't told her about that yet," Harm replied.

"Did you have sex with this woman?"

"Mattie!"

"What? I'm just asking," Mattie said, taking a momentary delight in the color on Harm's face until she realized it might not be a blush of embarrassment, but rather a flush of anger.

"Mathilda Grace Rabb, that is a question you don't ask," Harm said. "But for your general information, no, I never had sex with Alison Krennick."

"Well, that's certainly a relief, Harm. Although, I'm curious as to why you needed to tell Mattie that," came Beth's slightly amused voice from the doorway, causing Harm's head to snap around.

"She overheard a phone call about the case and was asking questions," Harm replied.

"That's as may be, but seriously, does Mattie really need to know that type of detail?"

Fortunately, for Harm's sake, the oven timer went off then, effectively ending the conversation for the moment. Harm removed the casserole and carried it over to the table, while Mattie removed her school work and then set to helping Beth with place settings.

"So, how was your day?" Harm asked.

"Nice try at changing the subject. I'll let you, though, because I really don't think Mattie needs any more information on the previous one. My day was fairly good. A couple of meetings about British defense spending and items they're looking to get from the states. A policy meeting with the head of the office, briefing us on the Congressional delegation due in town next week," Beth told him.

"Are you scheduled to deal with them?"

"No, the present plan is the Ambassador will handle them. Our office is to do a briefing for them but the day is still being decided. According to the boss, they'll spend most of their time shopping and we'll have to pack a two hour presentation into thirty minutes."

Harm remembered his time on Capitol Hill and thought that figure was about right.

"How is the case against Captain Krennick going?" Beth asked.

"It doesn't sound great, but there's still plenty of time," Harm said, adding a silent 'I hope.'

"Oh, what's wrong?"

"She's trying to claim that she and I had a previous sexual relationship and has submitted what she claims is proof. Now, Commander Alexander has to find evidence that refutes that proof or it becomes a he said, she said case and I think Admiral Morris would have to believe her because of reasonable doubts. At worst, he may conclude I lied in my testimony and charges could potentially be filed against me for it, as well as against Commander Alexander."

"Ouch! So, what are you doing about it?" Beth asked.

"Well, aside for giving Commander Alexander some advice, there's really nothing I can do about it. Anything that I discovered would be immediately attacked by Alison as being manufactured and unreliable. No, I can't get involved any more than I already have. Other JAGs or even NCIS agents need to be the ones to find the evidence," Harm told her.

"Do you think they'll find it in time?"

"I think so. Tomorrow's Friday, so all Commander Alexander has to do is get through the day and that buys two more days to search. Also, this is the Navy, we don't throw records away. Hell, I had a case where we identified a body over twenty years later by tracing the lot number on his issue watch. So, I have to believe that flight manifests are on file somewhere. They just have to find them and then identify the specific flights for those days."

"That only works if Captain Krennick actually went down there, Harm," Beth said.

"Well, her bank statement lists several purchases made in Hilton Head and the surrounding area for that weekend, so we know she went there, at least," Harm told her.

Beth could see that this topic of conversation wasn't pleasant for her husband, so she decided to just drop it. Harm was probably the most honest and honorable man she knew and to have been basically accused of lying, she knew, had to have hurt him. For now, all she was achieving by questioning him was to increase that hurt, which she didn't want to do.

VOQ – RAF West Ruislip, England

2014 Greenwich/ 1514 Eastern

With only a short break for dinner, Commander Alexander had spent her evening tracking down information. To this end, she'd contacted the local NCIS agent with a request for his agency to search for the flight records from Andrews AFB and NAS Oceana to MCAS Beaufort for the weekend in question. She needed all of the records, with any mentioning the names Commander Alison Krennick and Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior separated out, and it was a priority. Fortunately for her, the agent was well aware of the current trial involving those two officers and agreed to do everything he could.

After that, she got on to the JAG assigned to MCB Quantico and requested his help in tracking down the gate logs for that weekend. She needed to know when Admiral Chegwidden, Commander Krennick and Lieutenant Commander Rabb had arrived on base and when they had departed. She knew that, since they were visiting the base rather than being assigned there, they would have had to check in with someone.

With that done, her next call had been to Commander Manetti at the Pentagon. Alexander had gone through a mental list of everything she needed and all were crossed off except for getting Admiral Chegwidden to London to testify. There were just two major problems with that, as far as she could tell. First, since he was retired, she couldn't just have orders issued for his appearance. Second, if she couldn't get corroborating evidence, Admiral Morris was unlikely to allow him to testify, which meant that getting him to London would have been a waste.

Still, she wanted to set the wheels in motion. She was trusting in the necessary records being found somewhere. She was also silently cursing herself for having jumped the gun and trying to admit the proof she had already found. She knew that she could not afford to make the same mistake twice, because she might not get a third try.

Which is why Commander Alexander was now considering asking Admiral Morris for a day's delay in the trial. If need be, she could try to stretch things out with testimony from Commander Pike and Lieutenant Commander Coulter. But, given the direction to case had taken and the testimony already given, there was very little of relevance that either of the women could offer.

No, the delay was the only acceptable course of action open to her.

January 16, 2004

NAVFOREUR – London, England

0821 Greenwich/ 0321 Eastern

When Commander Alexander reported in that morning, she had been extremely surprised to find the NCIS agent assigned to NAVFOREUR waiting for her. Tucked under his arm was a large packet of manila envelopes, held together by two big binder clips.

"Is there someplace we can go to talk, Commander?" the agent asked.

"The law library," Alexander replied.

Leading the way, the agent held the door open for the officer and followed her into the room. Taking the first available seats, they faced each other across the table.

"Please tell me that's what I hope it is?" Alexander asked, pointing to the envelopes.

"You got very lucky, Commander. The flight records were converted to microfiche last year. Otherwise, my guys would probably still be searching just to find the right box," he told her. "Every flight between Andrews and Beaufort and between Oceana and Beaufort for the weekend of April 5, 1996. The guys in Washington faxed me these copies and are also sending copies on the next flight in the diplomatic bag. These are legible enough to read, though."

"Did they sort through them, though?"

"No, they were more interested in getting them to me. I made three copies for you, though."

Alexander looked at her watch. A half hour would be pushing things, but she would have to make do. Reaching for the first envelope, she started skimming, trying to find one of two specific names. If she didn't find what she was looking for by 0855, she'd just have to face the Admiral and ask for that continuance.

Looking across the table, Alexander saw the agent had begun to do the same thing she had. However, he was starting from the bottom of the stack. A glance at the top of her page showed her records were from Andrews on April Fifth. If the envelopes were in any particular order, he should have Beaufort departures for April Seventh, she hoped.

After three documents, she saw the time listed moving later in the day. If the case file on Gunnery Sergeant Crockett was accurate, Alexander was getting close to the probable time of departure. And on the next page, there it was. Commander Alison Krennick, listed as a passenger on a C-130 departing from Andrews to Beaufort at 1550 on the Fifth.

Unfortunately, she was out of time. Gathering the envelopes and her other files, she made a mad dash for the courtroom. Reaching the door, she paused for a moment to gather herself before pushing it open and entering. Captain Krennick was in her seat, as was Admiral Morris, so she hurried to her place.

"Punctuality is something to be commended in an officer, Commander, but there is such a thing as being too punctual," Admiral Morris remarked with a tight smile.

"My apologies, your Honor. Some new information came in this morning and I was gathering it, so that I could give a copy to the defense."

"I see. And the nature of this new information?"

"Flight manifests from Andrews AFB and NAS Oceana to MCAS Beaufort, covering the weekend in question," Commander Alexander replied with a slight smile as she handed a copy to the Admiral, then turned to deposit the remaining envelope on Alison's table.

"And these are supposed to mean something, Commander?" Alison asked from her chair.

"Well, we've already found the flight you took from Andrews to Beaufort, Captain. We hope to find Captain Rabb's name listed somewhere on those manifests as well."

"That's assuming that he didn't travel by commercial air, though?"

"Yes, Ma'am. But I have to start somewhere, don't I?" Alexander reposted.

"Your Honor, this so-called evidence merely supports my claim that Captain Rabb and I went to Hilton Head that weekend," Alison remarked.

"Actually, it supports your having gone to Hilton Head. Nothing on the bank record you submitted mentions Captain Rabb by name and we have only your allegation that he was there with you."

"Also, I object to the fact that these documents are handed to me at this point in the trial."

"Ma'am, you are the one who brought up the allegation that Captain Rabb and you went to Hilton Head for a weekend. That alleged event was unknown to me before yesterday, therefore how was I to know that I needed these documents to challenge your contention," Commander Alexander said, looking over at Alison. "Your Honor, I would be more than willing to give Captain Krennick any amount of time she feels necessary for her to review the documents and question the NCIS agents who found them."

"Ha, that also gives you time to review the files, which I rather doubt you've had time to do yet," Alison remarked.

"Stop!" Admiral Morris shouted. "Given the production of these new documents, I will give the defense the weekend to look them over. We will reconvene at 0900 on Monday, when I hope there will be no further 'newly discovered' documents appearing."

"Actually, your Honor. I also have the JAG officer at Quantico tracking down any gate logs concerning the arrival and departure of Admiral Chegwidden, then Commander Krennick and Lieutenant Commander Rabb, Sir. I hope to submit those documents when they are found," Alexander said.

"Fine. We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. We're recessed until Monday morning."

Admiral Morris didn't look back as he stormed from the courtroom. His temper was almost as high as it had been in years. He almost laughed as he realized that the same person was responsible, Harmon Rabb Junior. This was almost as bad as the day Rabb had shot up the ceiling of the courtroom with that H&K. Almost.


	12. Chapter 12

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

1010 Greenwich/ 0510 Eastern

Harm was sitting at his desk, watching the two British barristers discuss the accident involving the Naval Attaché's wife. Lieutenant Walker sat in a third chair, at a right angle to the desk. She was busy taking notes. For his part, Harm couldn't understand the attitude coming from the one lawyer. He had initially objected to having the meeting here, then he objected to the time of the meeting.

Now, as he listened to the two men, he wondered why the victim's lawyer had been so insistent on a British lawyer handling the other side of the case. The accident itself was cut and dried, as were the reports from both the police and the hospital. The insurance company was prepared to make payment for the damages, but it seemed the victim and his lawyer wanted something more. Perhaps the man had been hoping that a fellow Brit would be more sympathetic to sticking it to a Yank.

If so, he had been sadly mistaken. Mister Hargrove was hammering away at the man, listing in detail the points against his arguments and making his disdain in general quite clear.

"Sir, if your client was that seriously injured, why did he wait before seeking medical advice? The police report clearly states they asked if he was hurt and he replied that he was not. Also, emergency services had been sent to the accident and they made similar enquires, also rejected. Now, you have him visiting hospital two days later, seeking treatment for neck and back trauma," Hargrove said.

"The medical authorities I consulted assure me this is not entirely uncommon in accidents of this nature," the man replied.

"From a minor accident between a Mini driven by my client and a Rover driven by yours? I should think it would have been my client who would have come off worst in that case. Not to mention the police put the speed of the collision at around 35 kph. That's about 20 mph for you Yanks," he added for Harm and Annette, who both smiled.

"Well, I can see this is getting us nowhere. I had hoped that your client would be sensible, but since she is not, I will have to submit my brief to the courts."

"Please do so. I look forward to reading it, for the laugh if nothing else," Hargrove replied, as they all watched the man leave in a huff.

"So, what's next, Sir?" Annette asked for her seat.

Harm deferred to Mr. Hargrove, who smiled.

"Well, Lieutenant, I think the best place to start is by you and I going round to our client and having a talk. Let her know where everything stands and going over her account of the accident. Then, we wait for whatever nonsense that man decides to send us. Unless I miss my guess, he'll be at the courthouse last thing today, trying for an early hearing while hoping the papers get delayed in the post."

"That's sneaky," Annette said.

"But perfectly legal, unfortunately," was Harm's reply.

"Quite so, Captain. I think he's what you Yanks call an ambulance chaser."

Harm and Annette both had a good laugh at that. Harm was finding he liked the Brit and he hoped the man could take care of this case for them. Before he would say or do anything else, he phone rang.

"Captain Rabb."

"Captain, Commander Coleman down in Naples, Sir."

"Please tell me you have good news, Commander," Harm said.

"We think we've got him, Sir," Coleman replied.

"You think? Not know, just think?"

"Yes, Sir. We're waiting on NCIS to process the evidence, but I'm confident that this is our man. His record lists a number of documented altercations between himself and the victims, as well as other female officers who've served under him."

"Served under him? Who is your suspect, the CO?" Harm asked, his tone rising.

"Unfortunately yes, Sir. Five female officers in the last two years have requested transfers from the Mahan and three of those requests cited an excessive level of unprofessional behavior on the part of the CO. Also, the disciplinary rate for females versus males is quite high and when the female officers are subjected to extra duty, it's always under the CO's personal supervision. Male officers, when serving extra duty, are supervised by the XO," Coleman reported.

"I hope you have more than that, Commander."

"Yes, Sir. The CO's blood type matches that of the semen found on the victims. He was off the ship at the time of both victim's murders, as well. And he owns a knife consistent with the wounds on the victims, which NCIS has and is currently testing."

"And have you made an arrest yet?" Harm asked.

"No, Sir. I'd like something more solid before doing that. I have advised him of his Article 31 rights and provided him with a JAG officer to represent him, Sir," Coleman replied.

"Alright. Continue with what you're doing, Commander. I need to go brief Admiral Kieso about this, before it blows up."

"Good luck with that, Sir."

Harm had to laugh at that. He'd certainly need luck, considering he was about to tell the Admiral that one of his destroyer commanders was possibly a rapist and murder. But, that was one of the joys of the job. The hard stuff always ended up on your desk, the easy things were handled by the junior officers. So, Harm picked up the phone and called up to the Admiral's aide requesting a time to see the Admiral. She told him to be there at 1300.

With that, Harm said his goodbyes to Mr. Hargrove and dismissed Lieutenant Walker before turning his attention to the other folders sitting on his desk. Once thing was constant, as soon as he dealt with one stack of files another stack would certainly appear.

The American School – London, England

1208 Greenwich/ 0708 Eastern

Mattie was sitting with Hillary and Heather Parkhurst at lunch, where the conversation was all about the approaching weekend. The twins had their overnight bags in their mother's car and the plan was for Mrs. Parkhurst to drop the trio off at Mattie's house after school. The twins would take the two spare bedrooms, then they would spend the afternoon getting as much homework done as they could. That way, the rest of the weekend would be theirs to enjoy.

Mattie still needed to make plans with her parents for what they'd do on Saturday, but it had never really seemed a good time to bring the subject up with either Harm or Beth. So, it would be a scramble to figure something out. The one piece of good news is that neither of them had been forced to go out of town at the last minute.

"So, Mattie. We have plans for the weekend besides just staying at your house?" Heather asked.

"Not really. My dad's been a little busy at work, so I haven't been able to ask him. Why?" Mattie asked back.

"Just curious. Seeing as how you're new to London, didn't know if you had anything you wanted to see. Maybe we could do that."

"How about the Tower of London, then. We could do that Saturday, then maybe talk Beth into taking us shopping in the afternoon."

"Oh, yes," said Hillary. "Harrods, most definitely."

"Listen to Hillary, she's the shopping queen in the family," Heather said with a grin.

"As if you and Mum don't like shopping just as much as I do."

Mattie laughed listening to the twins argue over how liked shopping more.

"What about you, Mattie?" Hillary asked, turning to the redhead.

"I'm not much into shopping," Mattie told them. "I'm more about comfort than fashion. Dad and Beth are trying to change that, but Dad is totally clueless himself, so…"

"Well, if we do go shopping, we can help you," Heather told her. "Or we could go to the movies. There should be something good playing."

"That sounds fun. Just no action movies, please," Hillary put in.

"Oh, why not. Some of those are very good, especially when the hot guy takes his shirt off," Heather shot back at her with a grin.

"Ah, so that's why you let me pick 'Top Gun' last weekend," Mattie said.

"Oh, yes. Granted those guys are way old now, but the volleyball scene was absolutely perfect."

Hillary and Mattie just laughed at the look on Heather's face.

"You said your dad was a navy pilot?" Hillary asked.

"Oh, God. Do NOT let him hear you say that. In the Navy, they're called aviators. The Air Force has pilots," Mattie said.

"What's the big difference?"

"You would have ask Dad. I'm not sure. I just know not to say he was a pilot."

The bell rang signaling the end of the lunch period and that it was time to get back to classes, so the girls cleared the table and left the cafeteria. Mattie walked with the twins to the next class, still thinking about the weekend. It was nice that she was making friends, especially ones who could push her beyond her old boundaries.

NAVFOREUR – London, England

1258 Greenwich/ 0758 Eastern

Harm sat in the outer office, awaiting his meeting with Admiral Kieso. After his initial call, he had spent his time compiling all of the relevant information on the case. He couldn't be sure how deeply the Admiral might want to delve into the case and needed to be prepared. The Admiral's secretary had offered him coffee when he'd first entered the office, but Harm was currently feeling a little coffee'd out and had declined.

Now, Captain Pratt opened the inner office door and beckoned Harm to enter. The Admiral was sitting at his desk, a file open in front of him. After a quick glance at the doorway, he returned his attention to the file while Harm approached and braced before the desk.

"As you were, Captain," Admiral Kieso said without looking up. "Sit down. I'll be done in a moment."

True to his word, less than a minute later the file was closed and handed to Captain Pratt.

"Have Mrs. Sullivan send that back for revision. And this time, tell them I want it in English, not bureaucratic mumbo jumbo. Make sure they know that until one of those eighteen to twenty year old sailors can clearly understand what it says, I'll just keep sending it back."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Captain Pratt told him, a grin on her face.

"And wipe that grin off or I'll make you do the rewrite and let Stevens have the weekend off," Kieso told her.

"Yes, Sir."

"Judging by the folder you're carrying, you're not here to lighten my day, are you Captain?"

"No, Sir. We have a suspect in the two rape-murders off the Mahan," Harm said as he opened the folder and handed over one of the stacks of paper.

"I see and who is your suspect?" Kieso asked.

"It's the Commanding Officer, Admiral. Commander Kenneth Lockwood."

"And this is the reports from your office down in Naples, I see. How certain are they that the Commander is the killer?"

"It's circumstantial at the moment, Sir. He was ashore at the time of both murders, he had a history of problems with the victims as well as other female officers who have served aboard the Mahan. His blood type matches to semen found on the victims and he owns a knife consistent with the wounds on the victims," Harm replied.

"I see," was all Admiral Kieso had to say at the moment, as he read through the documents in front of him. "Captain, you're the lawyer. Play the defense on this for me, please."

"Well, I'd probably start with the means. The knife he owns is a very common type, I wouldn't be surprised if there were thousands of them down in Naples. It still needs to be tested, so at this point we don't know this is the murder weapon, only that it could be. The fact that he was ashore is less than convincing when you realize that the ship had been at sea for five months. After that long, almost everybody wants to get ashore. How many other sailors were also ashore at those times? And that match by blood type isn't precise. I mean, how many others aboard just the Mahan have that blood type?"

"Alright, so where do we go from here, Captain?"

"If the testing on the knife proves it's the murder weapon, we arrest the Commander and proceed with an Article 32 hearing on two counts each of violating Articles 118, 120 and 128. If not, we need to start looking again, without ruling Commander Lockwood out. But without the weapon, I would not recommending we move to an Article 32, due to double jeopardy issues," was Harm's answer.

"What do you think, Pratt?" Kieso asked his aide.

"I'm not a lawyer either, Sir. That's why Captain Rabb is here. I'd go with his recommendation."

"Do it, Captain, and keep me in the loop."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Harm replied before beginning to rise.

"Another thing, Captain. What's the latest on the Krennick court-martial?" Kieso asked.

"You'd have to talk to Admiral Morris about that, Sir. Considering my connection with the case, I have stepped away from it."

"I see. Alright, that will be all then."

Harm came briefly to attention before turning and exiting the office. One of the things he was coming to like about the Admiral was the speed with which he worked. No long, drawn-out discussions, just get to the point and move on. A glance at his watch showed about twenty minutes had passed from the time he'd entered the office until he was back out.

One bonus to that, was the fact that Harm had more time to get paperwork caught up. He wanted to leave on time tonight, remembering that Mattie was having friends over for the weekend. It wasn't a lack of trust on his part, as much as it was due to not knowing the other girls. So, he wanted to be around as much as possible and also meet the girls.

VOQ, RAF West Ruislip – England

1818 Greenwich/ 1318 Eastern

Commander Alexander was sitting at the little desk in her room, going through the various flight manifests. After finding the departure flight for Krennick that morning, she now had to attempt to find one for Rabb as well. The entire day of April Fifth had been covered without his name appearing on anything from either Andrews or Oceana. So, now she was making her way through the ones for the sixth, though she held out little hope. To her, if they were having a relationship, his arriving a day later just didn't make much sense. But, there was a strong difference between not making sense and not occurring, so she would press on with her search.

This, however, wasn't even half of it, though. Alexander also wanted to track down the return flight as well. When she did eventually present these as evidence, she wanted it to be as airtight as possible. She also hoped that the security logs from Quantico would be found and give her even more information. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a problem there. Those documents had never been transferred to microfiche and the boxes that contained them were having to be tracked down. Even when they were, the officer assigned would have to sort through them to find the documents she would need, so Alexander doubted she'd have them by Monday.

The telephone rang then, breaking her train of thought. Using her pen, she marked her place before turning to grab the offending instrument.

"Commander Alexander's quarters," she said.

"Commander, my name is Chegwidden. I've been told to contact you in regards to a case you're trying."

"Yes, Sir," she snapped out, coming close to attention.

"Relax, Commander. I'm retired now. Commander Manetti managed to contact me and said I needed to talk with you."

"Yes, Sir. I'm prosecuting the court-martial of Captain Alison Krennick and your name came up as a potential witness to confirm or deny certain accusations."

"I see," came a guarded response, which instantly aroused Alexander's curiosity.

"Do you remember a case involving Gunnery Sergeant Ray Crockett?"

"I do. He was charged with attempted murder of his commanding officer. I assigned then Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Austin to do the investigation. They eventually proved that Gunny Crockett hadn't been trying to kill the CO by replicating the shot."

"And this was when, Sir?"

"March or April of 1996, Commander. After eight years, I don't remember the exact date, sorry."

"And were you present when the replication of the shot was conducted?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, I had gone down there. I had something of a personal interest in the case, since Crockett had once saved my life," Chegwidden told her. "That's why I had sent Rabb down there. The man is probably the best investigator in the Navy, he won't stop until he finds the truth."

"Was there anyone else present besides yourself, Commander Rabb and Gunny Crockett?"

"Yes, Colonel Gordon, the CO, was there, as was Commander Krennick, Lieutenant Austin and some other Marines. Commander Rabb drove the vehicle for the recreation of the event."

"Drove the vehicle?" Alexander asked, her curiosity taking over for her objective of getting the information she needed.

"Yes. The shot Gunny Crockett took was at the driver's side mirror of a moving Humvee at 1000 yards, Commander," Chegwidden told her. "It was a hell of a shot."

"Did anything happen after that recreation, Sir?"

"Yes. Once he proved the incident wasn't an attempt to kill Colonel Gordon, the Colonel found Gunny Crockett guilty of destruction of government property, if memory serves, and I invited the Gunny to have a drink with me."

"And did any of the others join you?" Alexander asked.

"Commander Rabb did. I thought he deserved it, after the week he'd had. I think Commander Krennick and Lieutenant Austin returned to Washington," Chegwidden told her.

"Do you remember what time you left Quantico, Sir?"

"No, I don't. Like I said, it was eight years ago."

"But you are certain that Commander Krennick and Commander Rabb did not leave together and that Commander Rabb joined you and Gunny Crockett for a drink?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, I am, Commander," Chegwidden told her.

"Thank you, Sir. Be advised that I am going to ask for you to come to London and possibly testify to those facts."

"That would be fine. I actually happen to be in Milan visiting my daughter, so coming to London would not be a big problem. I can be there on Monday, if you wish."

"That would be perfect, Sir."

"I'll see you then, Commander," was all he said before hanging up the telephone.

A smile now on her face, Commander Alexander turned her attention back to the flight manifests and attacked them with a renewed sense of vigor. Yet, there was something that Admiral Chegwidden had said that was nagging at the back of her mind. She couldn't put her finger on it, just that it was there. So, as she worked her way through the various sheets of paper, that little voice kept trying to tell her something she was missing, but there was no clarity to it.

Finally, she stopped reading and just let herself think. With the rest of the weekend before her, she had time to let her brain figure it out.


	13. Chapter 13

January 17, 2004

The Tower of London – London, England

1025 Greenwich/ 0525 Eastern

Mattie and the twins walked ahead of Harm and Beth, chattering away. For Mattie, she was a little surprised by the size of the fortress as they approached. From the little she had heard, she had been expecting something a little bigger than what was confronting her. Whether it was due to the mass of buildings pressing in or just what the very word fortress denoted in her mind, she wasn't sure. Still, she was more than impressed.

Hillary and Heather were watching their friend. Both of them had been here before, but one of the benefits of that was they got to enjoy Mattie's reactions to what she was seeing. Last night had been fun for them, once they had finished their homework. After dinner, Harm and Beth had let the girls take over the television, while the adults settled in with books. Eventually, they found a movie on one of the channels and watched that. They followed it with a second movie, before heading off to bed.

This morning, they had awoken to Harm fixing a breakfast of scrambled eggs and hash browns. The girls had all come downstairs to find the table set with orange juice and milk out. Each of the girls had picked up a plate and proceeded over to the stove, where Harm dished out the food. They then could fix toast as well, if they wished. The twins had been surprised that Harm was the one doing the cooking, since that was something they had never seen their own father do. He'd often told them that the kitchen was their mother's domain and he went out of his way to stay out of it. Yet, here was Harm who clearly loved to cook and did it well, while Beth was nowhere to be found.

Actually, Beth was on the telephone upstairs. She had already showered and dressed, now she was talking to Bob, the taxi driver the family had met when they first arrived in England. Finding that he was free for the day, she arranged for him to collect the family at 0930 from the house and that they would hire him for the day. After explaining their plans, Bob had seen no overwhelming problems with it. He did tell her that he probably wouldn't be able to park the taxi there and wait for them. Rather, he would drop them off and then come back to collect them, but would keep the taxi free for them. When they were close to being ready to leave, they could simply call him and he would come back.

Beth had been fine with that idea. She would just take her cell phone and use that to call him. Besides, she had no idea how long they would be at the Tower and didn't want to just make the man sit outside and wait for them. The shopping excursion later in the day would be more than enough of that.

Once off the telephone, she went downstairs to eat. Everybody else was already started, with Harm almost done. Beth knew that once he finished, he'd head upstairs for his own shower. She saw the girls all exchanging amused looks at Harm's idea of morning attire, a wash faded T-shirt and sweat pants. Beth was just glad that her husband had remembered to put on a shirt before coming downstairs.

Harm and the girls all finished at about the same time and all of them trekked upstairs to get ready for the day. Beth didn't mind having to do the cleanup, since most of it was just putting the dishes into the dishwasher. The two skillets that Harm had used were put into the sink. They would have to wait a little bit, since Beth didn't want to run any hot water while the others were taking showers.

Harm was the first one downstairs, dressed in jeans and a sweater. Since much of their time would be outside today, he intended to dress warmly and open his coat when they went inside to avoid overheating. When the girls came downstairs, he was happy to see that they too were dressed for the weather. Hillary and Heather were wearing matching sweaters and dark slacks, while Mattie had on jeans and a flannel shirt.

The sound of a horn outside announced the arrival of Bob, who stood waiting by the back door as the group came outside. Hillary and Heather took the rearward facing seats, while the Rabbs sat across from them. The twins had been surprised to learn yesterday that neither Harm nor Beth had a car, though both had international driver's licenses. Still, they were enjoying the running commentary that Bob supplied on the drive to the Tower, something they wouldn't have gotten if Harm or Beth had been driving, Hillary was quite sure.

Arriving at the Tower, the taxi dropped them off as close to the entrance as Bob could get. Letting the girls take the lead, Harm reached into his pocket and found his wallet. When they reached the ticket kiosk, he paid for the admission and they went inside. Seeing a sign, Harm turned to the others and pointed in that direction. Moving along, he could see that a group was forming for the next tour.

"You want to join them?" Harm asked.

"That's sound like a good way to start," Beth said as the girls nodded.

"Well, if y'all are going on the tour, maybe we'll join you," came a voice from behind them, which brought a smile to Harm's face.

"Meg! What are you doing here? I figured you'd be back in Texas by now."

"Commander Alexander didn't say if she was finished with me, so I don't know if I need to stay or not. Besides, when I talked to Mom, she said Patty should see something of London before we came home and that her teacher was quite comfortable with her missing a few days for an opportunity like this," Meg told him. She and Patty were dressed virtually identically in jeans, down filled coats and boots. The only difference was Meg's coat was blue and Patty's was red.

"Meg, I'd like you to meet my family," Harm said, seeing Meg's eyes grow large as she saw a woman who was plainly Harm's wife and the three teenage girls standing with her. "This is my wife, Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Hawkes and our daughter, Mattie, and Mattie's friends Hillary and Heather Parkhurst."

"Call me Beth, please. Any friend of Harm's…." Beth said as she held out her hand.

"It's nice to meet the woman who finally corralled Harm."

Beth and Meg shared a look as they shook hands.

"You've got a beautiful daughter, Meg."

"So do you, Beth."

The tour was getting ready to start, cutting the talk short. So, the enlarged group headed off, listening to the Yeoman Warder who was serving as their guide. The uniform was interesting, to Harm's eye, although it didn't look exactly comfortable. He was interested to hear that all of the Warders were former NCOs or Warrant Officers with more than twenty-two years of service, meaning that the ribbons they wore had been earned, rather than handed out as a prop to fit an image.

As they went along, Mattie was more and more impressed. Not just with the history of the Tower, itself, but also with the long history of England. America's little over two hundred years seemed like a blink of the eye where compared with a fortress that had stood for almost one thousand. And the whole thing was smack in the middle of a modern metropolis, with skyscrapers dotting the skyline in the distance and a bridge right next to the Tower.

In some respects, this felt like a visit to Williamsburg to here. People in period costumes mixed with people in modern clothing, talking about events from long ago. Yet, for some reason, here it was just more real than she remembered her class visit to that colonial town as being. Looking over at the twins, she was happy to see that they were enjoying the visit just as much as she was.

After the tour, the group went into the White Tower and proceeded through the arms collection. This was followed by a visit to the Jewel House and the crown jewels, then it was time for a late lunch at one of the nearby restaurants. Seeing that Harm had guests with them, Meg begged off. She and Patty did agree to join the family for dinner tomorrow evening, however, as there was a lot of catching up to do.

When lunch was over, the group split up. Beth would take the girls out shopping, while Harm decided to go home and relax. To this end, he waited with them until Bob returned. Then, after they left in the taxi, Harm flagged down a second one to take him home. But first, he had the driver stop at a book store. He had finished his last book last night and needed something new to read.

VOQ – RAF West Ruislip, England

1757 Greenwich/ 1257 Eastern

After hitting something of a mental wall yesterday, Commander Alexander had spent the morning just relaxing. She had traveled into London after breakfast and gone to a couple of museums, before having a late lunch. Then, she took a brief walk through Saint James' park, before finally making her way back out to her temporary accommodations and the work that was still waiting. Her goal had been to recharge her batteries and it had worked, as she now felt more than ready to go.

She kept reflecting that it was something Admiral Chegwidden had said that had given her pause yesterday. With that in mind, she ignored the forms she hadn't looked at yet and turned her attention back to the ones she'd already gone through. If it wasn't here, then she would have to take out the case files and look back through them as well. She just knew that there was something.

Two hours later and she finally found what had been nagging at her. With it, a giant piece of her puzzle seemingly came together. For there on the flight manifest of the C-130 was a name Alexander had not previously connected to Captain Krennick, yet the coincidence of them both being on the same flight was too much for her to believe and went a long way to explaining things.

What Alexander didn't know was that five rooms away, Alison was staring at the same sheet of paper and silently praying that the connection wouldn't be made. Yet, she wasn't prepared to count on prayers and wishes. Rather, opening the nightstand drawer, she removed a small pistol and looked at it for several long moments.

Alison had been counting on the passage of time when she'd started to weave her web of lies. She had doubted that Rabb, with his known aversion for paperwork, would have kept detailed records going back eight years. So, her bank statement with the expenses for the weekend on it, would have been the only real evidence and the rest would have been merely his word versus hers. So, all she had believed that she needed to do was hope some of the mud she was slinging would stick and raise doubts in the mind of Admiral Morris.

As for the military's records, she had figured that would be a maze too deep and cluttered to dig through before time ran out on the prosecution. If not for the production of the documents yesterday meaning that she needed the time to go through them, Alison would have strongly objected to any motion for more time by the prosecution. Her right to a speedy trial and all that, even knowing that Admiral Morris would have still given the time but at least getting the objection on record.

But, unfortunately for Alison, it hadn't worked out that way. Commander Alexander had just kept digging and digging, before finally getting lucky. So, Alison had no choice but to believe that the connection would be figured out. That was why she needed a back-up plan, one that seemed a little extreme until one saw it from Alison's perspective. If she was found guilty on all charges and specifications, she was already facing close to thirty years. As old as she already was, thirty years was essentially a life sentence anyway. So there really wasn't that much to lose and a hell of a lot to gain, wasn't there?


	14. Chapter 14

Grove End Road – London, England

2328 Greenwich/ 1828 Eastern

Harm and Beth had just managed to get to sleep when the telephone rang. With a skill born of years of practice, he grabbed the offending object before a third ring sounded.

"Captain Rabb's residence, Sir."

"Sorry to disturb you, Captain. Major Atwood, Sir. I'm in charge of base security here at RAF West Ruislip and we have a situation here," came the voice on the other end of the phone.

"How can I help you, Major?"

"I need a JAG officer down here, Sir. We have what looks like arson and attempted murder, involving a female Commander. She's been medevac'd to London's Guy's Hospital for treatment, current condition unknown."

"Alright, I'll get someone headed out there right now. Have you notified NCIS?" Harm asked.

"They're already here, Sir," the Major said.

"Good. Do you have a name on the Commander?"

"Commander Lynn Alexander, Sir."

Harm was struck silent, his mind racing at the potential implications of the news. Although he could instantly think of a logical suspect, he was somewhat at a loss for motive. What had happened that so changed the dynamic of the trial that something this extreme would be contemplated. No, without a lot more to go on, he couldn't voice his thoughts.

"Ok, I'll get someone started out there as soon as I can, Major," Harm finally said before hanging up the telephone.

Getting out of bed, Harm hurried to his home office and found his list of phone numbers. Thinking for a moment, he dialed a number.

"Lieutenant Walker's residence, Lieutenant Walker speaking, Sir," came Annette's voice.

"Lieutenant, Captain Rabb here."

"Yes, Sir," all traces of sleep gone as she snapped fully awake.

"There's been an incident at RAF West Ruislip. Need you to go to the VOQ immediately and report to Major Atwood," Harm told her.

"And the nature of the incident, Sir?" Annette asked.

"Arson and attempted murder is what Atwood said. NCIS has been notified, so you will assist them in any way that they need. Is that clear, Lieutenant?"

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"You will keep me informed as to the status of the investigation, understood?" Harm asked.

"Yes, Sir," Annette told him.

Harm hung up then. He hadn't mentioned who the victim was or a possible suspect because, in his mind, he didn't want to influence the investigation. If this played out the way he believed it would, he didn't want any hint of bias being attached to the results. That was also why, even though JAG would be involved through Lieutenant Walker, he had made it plain that NCIS was the lead agency.

Harm's next step was to find Admiral Morris and pass on the news. He began by calling the duty officer at the Force Judge Advocate's office, since he wasn't certain where the Admiral was staying. Getting an answer, Harm called the switchboard at RAF West Ruislip and asked to be connected with the VIP Quarters.

"Admiral Morris speaking," came the response.

"Admiral, Sir. Sorry to disturb you, but there's a situation you need to know about," Harm said.

"Go ahead, Captain."

"I just received a call from Major Atwood, head of security at RAF West Ruislip. There's been an attempted murder and arson on base. The victim is Commander Alexander, Sir."

"Damn!" was Morris's response, before he went silent for a couple of minutes. Harm merely waited, guessing the thoughts that were going through the Admiral's mind.

"Do you know anything about the nature of the Commander's injuries?" Morris finally asked.

"No, Sir. What you have is what I know at this point. I sent an officer to assist NCIS," Harm responded.

"And I'm guessing that you believe Captain Krennick is a valid suspect in this matter?"

"I do, Sir. I haven't, however, shared that belief."

Morris sardonically chuckled at that. "Oh, I'll bet you haven't, Captain. The prosecutor in a case where you're the alleged victim is themselves the victim of a murder attempt. The suspect you and I have in mind is the defendant in that case, but if either of us were to make that suggestion, Captain Krennick would instantly scream 'they're biased' or worse."

"Exactly. Apart from the officer I sent there, my involvement in this is at an end. If I'm right, I want to see justice done and not have her escape over a technicality," Harm told him.

"Captain, we never had this conversation, understood? You called to let me know Commander Alexander was injured and that is all!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

"Thank you, Captain," was all Morris said before hanging up the telephone.

With that done, Harm left his office and went back into the bedroom. There was nothing else for him to do, except wait and pray. He just hoped that NCIS and Lieutenant Walker were up to the task of sorting this mess out.

VOQ – RAF West Ruislip, England

2352 Greenwich/ 1852 Eastern

Lieutenant Walker was in uniform, standing on the sidewalk outside of the VOQ. She had told the Corporal on guard duty who she was, even producing her identification. Still, he had stood by his orders that no one was to enter the crime scene and those orders stood until overridden by competent authority. So, Annette was forced to wait until the Corporal's officer came back or an NCIS agent came outside.

Since she had the time, she decided to look at the building itself. Judging by the damage, she had a fairly good idea of where the fire had started and ended. The exterior walls were slightly blackened and a few windows were missing. Through them, she could see more extensive fire damage, yet also evidence that the fire had been caught before it had progressed too far. A number of questions were starting to build in her mind, but almost all of the answers were to be found inside the building and she couldn't get in there yet.

"Lieutenant?" came a man's voice from behind her. Turning, she was a man dressed in slacks and heavy coat, a badge around his neck. "I'm Agent Weber. I understand you're here about the attempted murder investigation. You do understand this is NCIS's case, right?"

"Agent Weber, I just go where I'm told. My CO told me to report to Major Atwood, with orders to assist NCIS. I did so and he in turn directed me to you. Now, I'm not here to steal your case. I was told by my CO that my orders are to assist you in any way that I can," Annette replied.

"Any law enforcement background, Lieutenant …?"

"It's Walker and no, not personally. But I picked up a little from listening to my uncle and his friends."

"Oh, is your uncle a cop?" Agent Weber asked, a slight sneer coming to his lips.

"No, Agent Weber. He's a Texas Ranger, not a cop," Annette shot back at him, standing her ground with a fire in her eyes.

"Alright. Stick with me and put these on," Weber said, handing over a pair of rubber gloves.

With that, the agent led the way to the entrance to the VOQ. Lifting the crime scene tape, he went inside. Annette followed close behind, her eyes taking in the activity as other NCIS agents worked the crime scene. Weber, however, ignored them as he made his way to a specific door frame. Stepping through, he waited for the redhead to join him.

"That's the cause of the fire, right there," Weber said, pointing to a fire-blackened bottle of some brand of alcohol. "Judging from the pattern, whatever was in the bottle was poured across the desk, then splashed on the drapes for good measure."

"Alright, so that's the arson part. What's the story on the attempted murder?" Annette asked, looking around the room.

"A Commander Lynn Alexander, US Navy. When the firefighters arrived on the scene, she was face down on the bed. It was when they went to her that the first man noticed the pillow over her head with what he thought looked like a bullet hole in it. Sure enough, she'd been shot once in the back of the head, but the killer screwed up."

"How's that, Agent Weber?"

"The pillow, Lieutenant. I don't know if the shooter was squeamish or just trying to suppress the sound of the pistol going off, but the pillow ended up costing them. The bullet didn't go straight through, but at an angle," Weber said, pointing to his own head as he talked.

"Sounds like you've seen a few murders," Annette said.

"Lieutenant, when I was your age, I was working homicides in New York City. Yeah, I'd definitely say I've seen a few."

Annette had to smile at that. New York was regarded by many as the murder capital of the United States, even though this was no longer true. Still, she knew a police officer in a big city was likely to see more murders than the average cop.

"Pops, got a minute," came a woman's voice from the doorway. Weber turned with a look that plainly said he wasn't pleased by the interruption.

"Yeah, now that you've ruined my train of thought, go on," Weber said, although the smile now on his face was at odds with the voice.

"Major Atwood has the base on a security lockdown, as of five minutes ago. Yeah, I know it's probably too late, but we have to play the cards we're dealt. Also, talked with Bobby. The Commander is still in surgery, so we're in a holding pattern about getting a statement from her."

"Thanks. Have Bobby get an estimate of how long the surgery might go and then tell him to get some rest. Nothing he can do while she's in there, but once she's out, I want him or one of us on her twenty-four seven."

"You're worried the killer might try again?" Annette asked.

"Aren't you?" was all Weber replied before turning his attention back into the room.

"There's not much difference in the penalty for attempted murder and murder, Lieutenant. So, there's nothing really to lose, is there? Besides, a dead body has a much harder time identifying their killer than a live witness does," the woman said.

Annette just nodded her head, as the message couldn't be any plainer. Until the person who did this was caught, Commander Alexander was in danger.

"What was Alexander working on, do you know?" Weber asked, his eyes going from the room to Annette.

"She's prosecuting the Krennick court-martial. She's on a special assignment given that the accused is the former Force Judge Advocate and the victim is the current one. I don't know all the details, because Captain Rabb has told us to leave them alone unless they specifically ask for something," Annette told him before seeing the light go on.

"Damn, I must be getting old. I just gave testimony in that trial, but the name didn't click for me until you said something, Lieutenant. Garcia, would you and Lieutenant Walker be as kind as to find Captain Krennick for me, please? I think a word or two might be in order."

Annette followed the woman from the room, leaving Weber contemplating the scene some more.

January 18, 2004

NCIS Interview Room – London, England

0203 Greenwich/ 2103 Eastern

Annette and Agent Garcia stood on the other side of the one-way mirror, watching the interview. Alison was dressed in sweatshirt and khakis, obviously the first things she had thrown on when rousted from her bed a couple of hours earlier by the fire alarm. A look of curiosity was spread across her face, as she waited for Agent Weber to begin the questioning. The look puzzled Annette, until she thought about it. Alison, by the very fact that she was a Captain, must be a pretty good lawyer. As such, she knew that silence was her best weapon. This was not just verbal silence, but keeping the face as neutral as possible as well. She looked just like an innocent person should, wondering what she was here for.

"Captain Krennick, have you been advised of your Article 31 rights?" Agent Weber asked.

"Yes, I have, Agent Weber," was all Alison said.

"Do you wish to have an attorney present for this?"

"I don't see a need for that, really. I don't even know what this is all about, Agent."

"We're investigating the fire in the VOQ, Captain," Agent Weber told her.

"And I'm a suspect because I'm staying there?" Alison asked.

"No, Ma'am. We're going to be interviewing everyone who might have seen something. We're starting with people who were in the building."

"Well, I certainly didn't see anything. I was in my room working most of the day. I went out for lunch around 1300, to the pub near the gate to the base. I also left for dinner at the Officer's Club, around 1900 or so."

"I see. Did you happen to see anything or hear anything that might help us?" Weber asked.

"No. Like I said, except for those two times, I was in my room all day," Alison replied.

"I am curious about one thing, Captain. Why are you staying in the VOQ? I would have expected you to have quarters somewhere on base, Ma'am."

"I had already given up my assigned quarters, pending my departure from NAVFOREUR, when certain allegations were leveled against me. Because I had to stay for my court-martial, I was put in the VOQ until the case ends and I can leave."

"Ah, yes. The case. Isn't Commander Alexander prosecuting that?" Weber asked, watching her face carefully.

"Yes, she is," was all the reply Alison made.

"Were you aware that she was staying in the VOQ as well?"

"No, but it doesn't surprise me, Agent Weber. She was bought in specifically to hand this case and she would need somewhere to stay, wouldn't she?"

"Well, I think that's all I have for the moment. If there's anything else, we'll be in touch, Captain. Thank you for your time," Weber said.

"You're very welcome, Agent Weber. I hope you find whoever started that fire," Alison told him as she stood. He watched her leave the room, before turning to the mirror and making a 'Cut' sign. Agent Garcia went to the recorder and shut it off, before leaving the other room and going to join Weber. Annette was hot on her heels and closed the door after them.

"First impressions?" Weber asked without preliminaries.

"Oh, I definitely think she did it, Pops. But as you like to say, thinking ain't proving and right now we're a bit short on proof. We need evidence, or she'd walk if we pressed charges right now," Garcia said.

"I agree. So, what will constitute proof here, Lieutenant?"

"The gun would be nice, Agent Weber. Barring that, Captain Krennick's finger prints anywhere inside the crime scene, her DNA being there would be good too," Annette told them.

"What about the victim identifying Captain Krennick as the assailant?" Garcia asked.

"Nice, but too open to issues. Captain Krennick's first defense on that would be motive for falsely accusing her."

"Lay that out for me, Lieutenant?" Weber asked, watching her.

"Alright. If I was Captain Krennick, I would claim that the current trial was going the defense's way and that Commander Alexander is trying to influence the outcome of that trial by accusing her of a new, more serious crime," Annette told them. "Not saying that it works, but it would give a reason to discredit the identification."

"Well, then. I would say that our priorities are clear. First, find the gun and hope that it can be linked to someone. Second, find anything that doesn't belong in Commander Alexander's room and link it to a specific person. Lieutenant, I want you to start backtracking Captain Krennick's day yesterday. Garcia, check in with the hospital on Commander Alexander and then get back to the scene and see if the techs have found anything. I'll get the search organized with Major Atwood, then I'm heading for London to take Bobby's post for a while."

Seeing the two women nod, Weber walked out of the room. It was going to be a long day, he knew. But that's why they got paid the big money. Well, that and the fact that being a cop was the best job he'd ever heard of, Weber thought with a grin.


	15. Chapter 15

0839 Greenwich/ 0339 Eastern

Guy's Hospital – London, England

Agent Weber sat on an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, next to the agent he had assigned to Commander Alexander. Agent McCall was a lean man in his mid-thirties with light brown hair and grey eyes. Right now, those eyes were closed as he rested, having more or less ignored Weber's earlier order to leave the hospital and get some sleep.

The door opened and a man in surgical scrubs came out. Clearly, he had been told that someone was waiting and seeing the two men, he approached.

"You're here for Ms. Alexander, I believe?" he asked.

"Yes, Doctor. How is she?" Weber asked as McCall came fully alert.

"Her condition is guarded at the moment. We'll know better the full extent of any damage once she awakens."

"I see. Can you give us any ideas as to what we might be facing here, Doctor?"

"The damage was less significant than one might expect, most likely due to the small caliber of the round," the doctor told them. "However, it did transect the Brain, so there is some damage there. What is affected, if anything, is something I can't really answer until she's awake and we can run some tests," the Doctor said before turning to leave.

Weber nodded. He was actually surprised that Commander Alexander had managed to make it this far. Getting shot in the head was usually fatal. Looking over at Bobby, he saw the younger man had his eyes closed again and thought about emulating him, yet Weber felt too anxious to see much benefit in that. This whole case was a giant shit sandwich, in his opinion, before the ringing of his phone interrupted him from going any further.

"Weber."

"Hey, Pops," came Garcia's voice. "Bad news, bad news. The evidence team has been over the room with a fine tooth comb and it's not good. The few stray fibers were found on the pillow and bed. Problem is, they're from a Navy uniform and not specific enough to link to an individual. Also, no shell casing was found."

"So, either the shooter picked up after themselves or we're looking for a revolver," Weber replied.

"Looks that way."

"This just isn't making sense to me, Garcia. Was the fire supposed to cover up the shooting? If it was, why start it on the desk and not the bed itself? Or was the fire started for another reason entirely?"

"Don't know, Pops, but we've got a lot of work to do if we're going to catch the person who did this. So, can you get back here, please?" Garcia begged.

"Let me guess, Atwood's being his usual self?" Weber asked, suspecting the answer.

"Yeah. My name's not 'Babe' and I'm here to investigate a crime, not fetch coffee."

"Well, keep a lid on it for the moment and I'll get back as soon as I can. OK?"

"Yeah, Pops," came Garcia's suffering tones as she hung up the phone.

"The not-so Jolly Green Giant after Garcia again?" Bobby asked, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah, although for the life of me, I can't understand why. You'd have thought her dumping an entire thermos of coffee in his lap when he said, 'Babe, I like mine with two creams', would have gone a long way to letting him know she wasn't interested," Weber said with a laugh.

"I guess not," was Bobby's parting shot as Weber left the waiting room.

RAF West Ruislip – England

1330 Greenwich/ 0830 Eastern

Lieutenant Annette Walker was tired. She'd managed maybe two hours of sleep after a long day yesterday and had spent most of the morning following up on Captain Krennick's whereabouts from yesterday. Now, she was standing in front of the VOQ, waiting for Garcia and Weber to join her there. Weber had called her issue cell phone and suggested a meeting to see where everybody was at.

A call from behind her brought Annette's head around. Weber and Garcia were coming out of the building across the street and made straight for her. The cup of coffee Garcia held out was gratefully accepted, with a slight smile exchanged between the two women.

"Alright. Let's see what we've got. I'll start with Commander Alexander. She's out of surgery, but the docs have no idea when or if she'll be able to talk with us. They recovered the slug in her head and forensics has it now. So for, all they'll say is it's a small caliber, .22 or .25, they'll know more in a while. Garcia, what about you?" Weber asked.

"The crime scene was next to worthless, as far as forensics goes. The only fibers found were straight Navy issue, so no way to match them with a specific individual. No shell casing was found, so that's out as a way of identifying the weapon. I can give a two hour discourse on the damage to the crime scene done by the fire fighters, if you want to hear it?"

"That's quite alright, Garcia. I've heard it all before."

"That's all I have, Pops."

"Lieutenant Walker?"

"Captain Krennick's time line checks out, Agent Weber, as far as that goes. The gate has her leaving the base at 1247. Sergeant Cox was on duty and saw her walk to the Fox and Hounds, which is the pub near the gate. Went there and talked with the waitress, name of Lisa Brown. She vaguely remembers the Captain, but can't swear to it. They're fairly busy during the lunch hour and she's more concerned with orders than faces. The club has her taking her dinner at the bar, a chicken sandwich with steak fries and two glasses of beer. The bartender doesn't recall what time she was there, however," Annette told them, looking at her notes.

"Alright. If we assume that the time she gave us is correct, what does it prove?"

"Not much, other than we have two place we can put her with some certainty. But the arson and attempt on Commander Alexander occurred after Captain Krennick finished dinner and should have been back in the VOQ."

"Precisely, Lieutenant," Weber said. "So, Captain Krennick is still a suspect, but then, so is almost everybody else in the VOQ, plus tons of other people we don't even know about yet."

"Did Major Atwood's search teams have any luck?" Annette asked.

"Nothing yet, but they're still looking," Garcia replied.

"I'm still curious about that fire, though," Weber said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "This whole thing just doesn't make sense."

Annette and Garcia stayed silent, letting the older man work through the problem. Motioning for the two women to follow him, Weber went walking to the parking lot and got into the NCIS sedan. Garcia got behind the wheel and Annette took the front passenger seat. Weber motioned for her to drive off.

"Here's what we know, so far. Commander Alexander was shot once, back of the head, execution style. Except the shooter made a mistake and she's still alive. We know that a fire was started on the desk, using alcohol as the accelerant. Assumptions are that the shooter knocked Commander Alexander unconscious…."

"What the heck?" Garcia asked.

"Come on, Garcia. Think for a minute. Even asleep, don't you think Commander Alexander would have noticed someone putting a pillow over her head and then pressing a gun to the back of her skull?" Weber asked, a smirk on his face, as he formed his hands into a gun-shape and pressed the extended fingers into the back of Annette's head, close to where Commander Alexander had been shot.

"So, how does the shooter get close enough to knock Commander Alexander out?" Annette asked, moving her head forward as Weber kept pressing.

"I'd guess one of three possibilities: she knew her attacker, she was attacked by someone posing as a person of authority, or she was surprised by her attacker."

"Well, Captain Krennick might fit the first category, but I just don't see Commander Alexander inviting the woman in for drinks or a chat?"

"True. But that's something we need to think about. Also, the fire had to have been set by the shooter, but for what purpose?" Weber asked, before grunting in pain. Looking, he saw that Annette had pivoted in her seat. She had managed to grab his wrists and was pulling straight downward. Weber got the message and moved his hands apart, whereupon she released her hold and he returned his hands to his side of the seat.

"Well, if it was to cover up the crime, they should have covered the body with the alcohol and set the fire there," Garcia said, pulling to the shoulder of the road as she took in the scene in the car.

"Assume the fire wasn't to cover up the shooting. What was the real goal, then?"

"Destroy something else?" Annette asked.

"Exactly. So, what was on the desk?" Weber asked in return.

"Has to be something to do with the Krennick case, Agent Weber. I doubt Commander Alexander brought anything with her and this trial is the only thing she's currently working on to my knowledge."

"Garcia, take us back to the office, please. Lieutenant, get in contact with Admiral Morris and request a meeting for us. We need to see any documents she might have been working on in prosecuting Captain Krennick."

"That should be easy, since the Admiral is probably staying on base," Annette said with a smile as she pulled out her cell phone and began dialing.

NCIS Interview Room – London, England

1614 Greenwich/ 1114 Eastern

Admiral Morris sat on one side of the table, while Agent Weber and Lieutenant Walker occupied the other. He had stopped at the FJA offices and retrieved his case materials from the confidential safe, where he had been storing them rather than taking them with him each day. One of the benefits of being the judge, until the case was concluded he didn't need to keep reviewing the documents. Rather, he made notes during the trial about what each side considered important and used those notes when evaluating the evidence.

Now, NCIS seemed to believe that the evidence in the Krennick case was the reason for Commander Alexander being shot. At least, that was his assumption following the telephone call from Lieutenant Walker and her request that he bring the evidence with him.

"Agent Weber, how may I help you?" Morris asked.

"Admiral, we believe that the fire in the VOQ was set not to cover up the attempted murder of Commander Alexander, but to destroy her files relating to the case she's prosecuting," Weber told him. "The fire was set on the desk of the room, rather than on the bed, as one might expect if the motive was to incinerate the body."

"We believe that the reason rests in those files, Sir," Annette added.

"And you want me to let you look at those documents?"

"Yes, Sir. Also, we'd be interested in your perceptions on how the trial itself is going?" Weber asked.

"I can't do that, Agent. Anything I might say one way or another about the trial could be construed as bias. There would be a mistrial and possible sanctions against me," Morris told them.

"Could we possibly see the court reporter's transcript, Sir? We could form an opinion from that, just as easily and without needing to involve you making comments," Annette told Admiral Morris.

"I'll need to talk with the Judge Advocate General and get advice. The main thing I need to keep in mind is maintaining a fair trial for Captain Krennick. I understand that this may seem trivial to you, Agent Weber, but I've dedicated my life to the rule of law. I can't throw that away, no matter how righteous the motives may be."

"I can appreciate that, Admiral. My life has been in service to that same ideal," Weber said with a tight smile. He couldn't help admiring a man of principles and conviction, even when those principles and convictions were slowing down the solution to his case.

"I'll try to have an answer for you by tomorrow, Agent," Admiral Morris told him. "My suggestion would be to read through the evidence. It's in the order of submission, separated by which side submitted it. So, it starts with People's 1 and ends with Defense's 6."

"Thank you, Admiral Morris. If we have any questions?"

"By all means, call me. I will answer what I can."

With that, Admiral Morris left the interview room. Weber looked at the stacks and immediately removed the defense exhibits, earning a smile from Garcia and a knowing look from Walker. That just cut the work load by thirty percent. Next, he separated the various documents. The biggest was also the very last one, a set of flight manifests. Weber took those and moved the rest of the documents out of the way.

"Alright, here's my thoughts. Assumption number one, the case has been going on almost a week. If the attempt on Commander Alexander is tied to the evidence, the timing seems to suggest the most recent evidence as the likely cause?"

"Ok, so that would be those flight manifests?" Garcia asked.

"Correct. Assumption number two, there is something in here that frightened the shooter enough that they believed the only rational solution was to kill anyone who found it. Now, here's our problem. What is that thing?" Weber asked.

"Here's another problem, Agent Weber," Annette said, earning a frown. "How did Commander Alexander make the connection, if there is one? Was it based on something said in testimony? Was it just something that came to her? Or did something else happen, something we don't know about?"

"Oh, Walker. You are just a barrel of sunshine and happy thoughts, ain't ya?"

"Just calling it like I see it, that's all. This is like doing a jigsaw puzzle in the dark. We've got pieces, but we can't be sure we've got all of them. We can make out the shapes, but not the colors, so we can't be certain that what we put together really fits. This is going to be fun."

"Welcome to true police work, Lieutenant," Garcia said with a smile. "We'll fumble around until another clue surfaces, then move the pieces some more. The answer is here, I'm sure of that. Now we just need to ask the right questions."

"Well, let get started," Weber said, as he laid out the pages, trying to find the initial pattern. Welcome to police work, indeed. Hours of tedious reading, deep thinking and pattern recognition went into turning bits of nothing into something.


	16. Chapter 16

January 19, 2004

USNAVFOREUR – London, England

0659 Greenwich/ 0159 Eastern

Retired Admiral AJ Chegwidden stepped from a taxi, holding a suit bag in his left hand as he paid the driver. Closing the door, he turned toward the building and set his shoulders. He'd arrived in London late yesterday and gone straight to his hotel. After a room service dinner, he'd gone down to the hotel gym and worked out for an hour before turning in for the evening.

Walking through the front door, he stopped at the security desk and presented his ID card. The young Marine behind the desk took a quick glance before starting to hand it back. Yet, reflex brought him to his feet as the rank hit him. Retired or not, an Admiral was still an Admiral.

"At ease, Sergeant," Chegwidden said as he signed in. "Can you direct me to the FJA offices, please?"

"Actually, Sergeant, I'll show him," came a familiar voice from behind him. "Good to see you again, Sir."

"Petty Officer Coates," Chegwidden said as he turned.

"Here, Sir. Let me take that," she said, taking the bag from his hands before heading towards the elevators. "What brings you to London, Sir?"

"A Commander Alexander got in touch with me about testifying in a court-martial she's prosecuting."

"Oh, then you want to go to the Conference Room, Sir, not the main office. That's where the officers assigned to Captain Krennick's court-martial have been working out of."

Getting off the elevator, Coates led Chegwidden away from the FJA's office and down to the conference room. Opening the door for him, she stepped aside as he entered, reclaiming his bag as he passed her. She let the door close behind him, before making her own way to the FJA office and her desk there.

Inside the conference room, Chegwidden was a little surprised to see it occupied by only one person. Watching the man stand, he smiled a little. Approaching, the two men shook hands.

"Hello, Stiles," AJ said.

"AJ, good to see you again. What brings you to London?" Morris asked, although he had his suspicions.

"Commander Alexander called me on Friday, asking questions about an old case. Then she said that she needed me to testify, but she never said exactly what about."

"Well, that's going to be on hold for a while," Morris told him, a grave look coming to his face. "Saturday evening, Commander Alexander was the victim of an attempted murder."

"What the hell?!" AJ asked, stunned.

"Oh, it gets better, AJ. Whoever shot her also set a fire in her room. After NCIS was done with the scene, I went through with one of their agents. All of Commander Alexander's case files for this court-martial are gone. Judging from the amount of ashes on the desk, I'm almost willing to bet the planned funeral pyre was started with them."

"You don't think…."

"AJ, I'm not thinking anything. I'm not suggesting anything. I'm merely looking at the evidence and saying everything that Commander Alexander had relating to this case is gone," Morris said.

"Well, who was sitting second chair for her?" AJ asked.

"Nobody. We got sent over on a rush by General Creswell and there wasn't time to get another set of JAGs to act as second chairs and who didn't know either Rabb or Krennick."

The sound of the conference room door opening behind them ended the two men's conversation. AJ turned to face the door, keeping any warmth from coming to his features as Alison walked into the room. For his part, Morris just watched the two of them. When he'd first come to JAG, Krennick had been an aide to Chegwidden. At the time, he had sensed a closeness between the pair that had made him slightly uncomfortable.

"AJ, it's good to see you again," Alison said in a low purr of a voice.

"You too, Alison," was AJ's slightly cool response, his mind still turning over the information Admiral Morris had just told him.

"What brings you here?"

"Commander Alexander asked me on Friday to come testify. However, Admiral Morris here just informed me that something's happened to delay that."

"Oh? What?" Alison asked, as she seemed to notice for the first time that Commander Alexander wasn't there.

"Commander Alexander was the victim of a murder attempt on Saturday evening. She's currently in a medically induced coma at Guy's Hospital here in London," Morris told her, doing his best to watch her face without watching, wanting to catch her genuine reaction.

Alison, for her part, could feel the blood drain from her face. The two shocks, back to back, were almost more than she could take. The only reason that she could think of for AJ being called to London was that Alexander had made the damned connection. The only question now was whether she had told anyone else. Alison's mind raced as she tried to plan how to deal with this new development.

"That's terrible," Alison finally said after a moment. "Hopefully, she'll recover soon."

"It's doubtful. See, NCIS told me she was shot in the back of the head, execution style. So, I wouldn't count on our having the services of the Commander for some time to come. This afternoon, I'll be calling General Creswell with an update on the situation and request he get another couple of JAGs here, ASAP. AJ, I'm sorry but I'll have to ask you to cool your heels here until they can get here and get up to speed on the case."

"I understand perfectly," AJ told him.

"How long of a delay are you proposing?" Alison asked.

"As long as is necessary, Captain! Somebody tried to kill one of my officers! They shot her in the back of the head and then set fire to her rooms!" Morris bellowed.

"Admiral, you're not…."

"I'm not suggesting anything, Captain, and I appreciate your right to a speedy trial. However, the fact remains that opposing counsel is not available. Because of this, and considering the alleged victim in this matter is the FJA and that his staff is not available for this case because of that, I need a new prosecutor sent from elsewhere. So, they need time to fly here, as well as time to get acquainted with the evidence as well as the testimony given so far. The only other choice I have is to declare a mistrial and we can start this whole thing all over again from the very beginning. Your choice, Captain."

Alison thought about that. A mistrial at this point would be bad for her, especially given how well she'd done in discrediting Rabb's testimony. Yet, the ticking time bomb that still lay in those flight manifests was out there. She could only hope that, in the rush to prepare for taking over for Commander Alexander, whoever came over would miss that. If they did, she could easily see herself winning the case.

AJ, on the other hand, had been growing steadily curious given the muted reaction from Alison. She'd just been told that a colleague had been brutally shot and left for dead, yet her only concern seemed to be how this would affect her trial. Certainly, back when he'd known her, Alison could be harsh, but she'd never struck him as entirely uncaring. Like the time when Lieutenant Austin had been shot. He'd known the hours that both Alison and Rabb had put in trying to track down the shooter, plus going to the hospital to visit. AJ found himself wondering if Alison had been the shooter and if so, what had changed in her.

"Very well, Admiral. Given that we won't be proceeding today, there is really nothing keeping me here. Please let me know as soon as we'll be able to resume the trial," Alison said.

"Of course, Captain," was Morris' cool reply, as he waited for her to leave the conference room. Once she did, he sat down in his chair and began to massage his temples. His head was throbbing and his mild tirade at Captain Krennick was only a small portion of the rage he was currently feeling. In over twenty years in the Navy and as a JAG, he'd never before had an officer working with him injured like this. Such an attack was, in his mind, an attack on the entire justice system. This was like something out of a movie or novel, not the real world. Yet, it had happened and now he had to deal with the consequences.

AJ watched Morris for a while and could easily read the expression on the man's face. The difference in the two of them was that one was a combat veteran and the other wasn't. Morris had spent all of his career in the JAG Corps. He'd never had to send men into a firefight, never commanded a ship at sea where men risked being swept overboard and other hazards. Even at JAG, AJ had sent his people into dangerous situations many times over the years and while it couldn't be said he did it without batting an eye, he also did it without too many reservations. Yes, this was different in as much as, almost every time he'd done so, his people had been aware of the dangers. Commander Alexander, more than likely, had not been, given that she was in a friendly country. Without knowing full details of the case, AJ could only speculate on how dangerous it truly might have been.

JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, Virginia

1213 Greenwich/ 0713 Eastern

General Gordon Creswell put down the telephone was a slam, his anger barely contained. Taking a moment to calm down, he turned to the computer terminal he'd had put on the desk and logged on. Initiating an immediate search of all JAG officers of O-4 rank or higher, he sat back and waited. Once that was completed, he started going through their records. What he was looking for was someone who was not only an excellent lawyer, but also someone who could take care of themselves if the necessary.

After a few moments, he had found the person he wanted. Picking up the telephone, Creswell dialed a number and waited.

"Major McBurney, Sir," came the crisp response.

"Hello, Jack."

"General Creswell, good to hear your voice. And congratulations on the stars, Sir."

"Thanks, Jack. Anything hot happening down at Quantico at the moment?" Creswell asked.

"No, Sir. The boys and girls seem to be behaving themselves at the moment," McBurney said.

"So, Colonel Harris won't have too many problems if I steal you for a few weeks?"

"Shouldn't, Sir. Why?"

Creswell smiled at the tone, part anticipation and part dread.

"Well, I thought you might like a chance to travel. See new sights, meet interesting people and put them behind bars," Creswell said with a grin.

"And what aren't you telling me, Sir?" McBurney asked.

"Do you know a Commander Lynn Alexander?"

"No, Sir."

"Well, she was prosecuting a trial in London. Two nights ago, she was found shot in her VOQ. She's currently in the hospital and we're waiting more information from her doctors. However, the trial she was prosecuting needs to continue. I want you to take over the prosecution. Admiral Morris is the judge and he's willing to give you a couple of days to get there and go over the evidence before he resumes the trial," Creswell told him.

"So, I could have a bull's-eye on my back, is what you're telling me," McBurney replied.

"Don't know, Jack. I'll admit this did enter into my thoughts when choosing her replacement, but I'm hoping I'm just worrying for no good reason."

"Well, General, you and I have spent enough time in Indian Country to know when to listen to that little voice, so I'll keep my eyes open. Get me my orders and itinerary and I'll go get packed, Sir."

"They'll be in your office in an hour, Major. Good luck," Creswell said before hanging up the phone. He and Jack McBurney went back a few years, to when they were stationed together, first at Camp Pendleton and then in Iraq. In Creswell's opinion, McBurney was a damned good attorney who was due for his silver leaf this year. If all went well, Creswell planned on having him transferred to JAG HQ and replacing Commander Turner as the Chief of Staff when that happened.

There was nothing necessarily wrong with Commander Turner, in Creswell's opinion. But that was very different from saying that he was a big fan of the naval officer either. Turner just struck him as being very rigid and tied to standard operating procedures, rules and instructions. Sometimes, it was necessary to think outside of those narrow paths and consider not just the good of the mission and the service, but also the men and women who served in it. Turner seemed to view the word "accident" as simply an excuse for someone's failure, rather than for simply being what it was: an accident.

With the types of cases that the officers at JAG HQ routinely handled, he needed someone who could see the shades of gray that existed outside of the rules as the Chief of Staff.

RAF West Ruislip – England

1646 Greenwich/ 1146 Eastern

Agents Weber and McCall were standing inside the vehicle maintenance garage, while the evidence specialists were carefully removing the gun that had been discovered that morning. They had already interviewed both the Petty Officer who had found the gun as well as the shop supervisor. The garage had been closed over the weekend and therefore should have been secured. However, the window on the rear personnel door was broken and had been for almost a week now, awaiting replacement by building services.

Finally, the weapon was out of the barrel and one of the techs motioned for the two men to approach.

"Well, good news is, this is definitely a .22. That matches, more or less, with the size of the slug removed from Commander Alexander. Unfortunately, the bath that it was subjected to removed any trace evidence that might have been useful," he told them.

"I still want that weapon field stripped and inspected. Check the magazine, the ammo, everything. I also want it test fired and matched with the evidence," Weber said.

"I thank you kindly for telling me how to do my job, Agent Weber."

The acidic tone penetrated and Weber bit back on his response. It was only after a moment that he finally felt able to speak.

"I'm not really trying to tell you how to do your job. I'm just begging for a miracle, right now. Because if that is the weapon used on Commander Alexander, but there's nothing tying it to an owner, then it's just a paperweight as far as I'm concerned."

"I hear you," the man said with a nod of his head, before turning back to his work.

"Pops, why don't you go home? Get maybe six hours of sleep and come back," McCall said, not liking the look on the older man's face.

"I'll sleep when we catch this person," Weber replied.

"Pops, considering that we're not even close to catching him, that could be a long wait. And the less sleep you're working with, the more mistakes you're going to start making."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Like assuming that the evidence guys wouldn't check the whole gun for clues. We've got some of the best people in NCIS here. They know what they're doing. So, why don't we let them process the evidence and rest up for the hunt," McCall said, keeping his tone even and reasonable.

"Well, I'm stopping by the hospital and checking on Commander Alexander. Maybe after that, I'll consider your advice," Weber said, before turning to leave the garage.

McCall watched him leave, breathing out a silent sigh. Pops really needed to find something other than the job that could matter in his life. Maybe a wife and family, although that hadn't worked out well for McCall which made him less than willing to recommend it as an idea for anyone. No, all his marriage had gotten him was an ex-wife who had been happy to take up with another man as soon as the paperwork was final and a son who couldn't stand the sight of his own father. On second thought, maybe Pops had the right idea after all.

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

1715 Greenwich/ 1215 Eastern

Jason Tiner walked through the doors to the office, a visibly worn expression on his face. Still, he was very pleased with himself. He and Lieutenant Commander Hoiles had done a great job of getting the case on the Bunker Hill concluded without too much wasted time or expense. After reviewing all the relevant information, it had turned out that the OOW had not been responsible for the grounding. Rather, the helmsman had let the ship's course drift over the proceeding hour through inattention. This had been the matter that the OOW had rather forcefully brought to the Captain's attention and had resulted in the additional charges.

Once they had been able to conclusively establish that even if she had been on the bridge, the OOW would have been unlikely to have caught the error, the Captain had backed down. New charges, however, had been preferred against the helmsman for his actions and were slated for an Article 32 hearing in Naples within the next few days. Hoiles would be handling that, though, so Jason had flown back to London that morning on the Naples-to-London shuttle the Air Force was running. The ride into London had given him plenty of time to get most of the report typed out on his laptop, since he only stopped when the battery got too low for him to continue.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant," Harm said from the doorway to his office. He had just been ready to leave for the evening. The dinner he had arranged with Meg had been pushed from yesterday to today, given everything that had happened. Still, he did want to talk with Tiner for a moment or two about the case.

"Thank you, Sir," was Jason's response.

Motioning for the other man to follow, Harm went back into his office. Taking a seat perched on the edge of his desk, he waited while Jason sat down.

"I understand congratulations are in order. That was well done, getting that situation defused."

"I can't take all the credit for that, Sir. Lieutenant Commander Hoiles was a great partner. Once he'd looked at the initial reports, he suggested he talk to the Captain while I interviewed the OOW. Once she realized I wasn't there to crucify her, she really opened up. After that, we just had to confirm what she'd said and the rest was just a matter of the Commander using his people skills to eliminate the rest of the charges, Sir."

"And did you learn anything?" Harm asked.

"That being able to work with people is almost as much a part of our jobs as being lawyers," Jason said with a smile.

"That's true, Lieutenant. But the big thing I see here is that you and Hoiles didn't jump to any conclusions based on the initial reports and the charges, but went in with an open mind. Sometimes that's one of the hardest things for a person to do. Everyone has little biases that can trip them up in an investigation. If you can remember that and if you know what your biases are, it will help you a lot," Harm told him.

"And what are your biases, Captain?"

Harm didn't answer, just smiled cryptically for a moment.

"How soon can I expect your report?" Harm asked, changing the topic.

"I should have it done be tomorrow afternoon, Sir."

"Excellent. Let me have it soonest, so I can go over it with Admiral Kieso."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Jason said as he stood, sensing the meeting was over. So, he stood and braced.

"Dismissed," Harm said.

"Aye, aye, Sir."

Once Jason had left the office, Harm followed him out the door. He would only be a few minutes late, he hoped. Still, Mattie would be home and maybe Beth, too. He was certain the either or both of them were perfectly capable of entertaining the women from Texas until he arrived.

Grove End Road – London, England

1812 Greenwich/ 1312 Eastern

Harm entered the house to the sound of laughter coming from the living room. Coming inside, he found Beth and Meg sitting on the couch, while Mattie and Patty occupied two of the chairs. All four of the women turned to look at him before another round of laughter erupted, causing Harm's eyebrows to raise as he wondered what the joke was.

"Why do I have a feeling that getting you two together isn't going to end well for me?" Harm asked, a grin on his face to take away any sting the words might have had.

"Because you're a lawyer and suspicious by training?" Beth asked in turn.

"Hey, I'm a lawyer too," Meg put in, acting slightly hurt by the implications.

"Ah, but you're also a lady, Ms. Austin."

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Rabb."

"You've welcome. Now, why don't you get back to telling me all about the trip you and my husband made to Cuba," Beth said with a grin.

"Ah, Meg. That's classified," Harm said.

"Spoil sport," Meg told him. "Let me just say it was interesting, Beth. Satisfied, Harm?"

"Yeah."

"What ever happened to Commander Keeter, anyway? Still flying for the Navy?"

"Yeah. He made Captain last year and took over as CAG of CAW-1 on the Teddy Roosevelt," Harm told her.

"Still a womanizer, too," Beth put in. "Tried on French kiss me in the receiving line of our wedding."

"He didn't go that far?" Harm asked, looking over at Beth. "Did he?"

Seeing the look on his wife's face, Harm knew that he had. Harm saw red for a moment then, before Beth laid a gentle hand on his and squeezed it.

"Hey, I can handle some pilot who thinks he's God's gift to women, Harm. Remember, I served on a carrier."

"Nice to know some things never change," Meg said.

A ding from the kitchen announced that the dinner Beth had put in the oven was ready. Getting up, she went and removed the two baking dishes. Each held a full lasagna, one with meat and one vegetarian. Beth figured that Meg, Patty and Mattie would easily finish off the one with meat, while she and Harm had the other.

Mattie and Harm had both followed her into the kitchen, where the teen set the table while Harm got out drinks. For the adults, he selected a bottle of wine, while the kids would have their choice of soft drinks and juice. Once the food was on the table, everyone sat down and dug in. Beth also had salads and bread sticks to go with the lasagnas. The conversation around the table was mainly on Harm and Meg catching up with each other.

After dinner, Mattie took Patty upstairs to watch a movie on her television, while the adults continued talking.

"I will say that I'm curious about something," Harm said finally. "Who is Patty's father, Meg?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you, Harm," Meg said as she looked at her hands.

"Meg, you weren't…."

"No, Harm. I wasn't assaulted, raped, or anything like that."

"Then why wouldn't you want to tell me," Harm said.

"Because it doesn't make me look good, Harm. I know when we were working together, you saw me as your kid sister and I don't want to destroy that image," Meg told them.

"Nothing you could possibly say would ever make me think less of you, Meg. We all do things we wish we could change, although I somehow don't think Patty is something you'd want to undo, is she?"

"Maybe the conception, but no, not what I got out of it. Patty is my angel and I love her more than I had ever thought possible."

"So," was all Harm said, as he looked over at Meg. Beth, for her part, was growing curious.

"You still know how to pressure someone into a confession, Harm," Meg said with a nervous chuckle. "Alright, if you promise not to tell. Patty doesn't even know. Just me, my mother and my lawyer, since I wanted something in my Will in case anything happened to me before she is of age."

Meg took a large sip from the glass of wine in front of her, still clearly uncertain about her revelation. She was also waiting for Harm to promise her that he'd stay silent, although she wondered if he'd be able to keep that promise once she told him.

"We promise," Harm said, joined by Beth a moment later.

"The father is Jack Keeter, Harm."

Harm looked truly stunned at the words. Jack Keeter and Meg Austin.

"Huh?"

"It was a one-night stand, Harm. We happened to run into each other in a bar, we had a couple of drinks and well," Meg said, flushing a little. "When I found out I was pregnant, I tried to contact him at Pax River, but he was off on an assignment. And after I thought about it for a while, I wondered how he would respond to a call out of the blue saying, 'Hey, Jack, remember that night we slept together. Guess what? I'm pregnant.'"

Beth smiled a little at that, picturing the look on Keeter's face at that. Somehow, she just didn't see him as Daddy material. Harm, on the other hand, thought Jack would have done the right thing by both Meg and Patty. But he could also see Meg's point-of-view as well. Her primary concern had to have been what was best for Patty. Besides, admitting that the baby was Jack's would have opened them both up to charges of fraternization, with the child being exhibit A for the prosecution.

The sound of Mattie and Patty coming down the stairs effectively ended the conversation. A look at the clock above the sink showed that it was almost 2100. Beth called for a taxi, while Harm and Meg made certain to exchange contact information. The two of them felt that, now that they had reconnected, they definitely wanted to remain in touch. One of the down sides of the military life was the constant moving from assignment to assignment, with friendships put on hold until you happened upon one another at another duty station. With Meg being tied to her ranch in Texas, it would be a little easier for them to keep in contact.

When the taxi arrived, Harm made sure to walk them down to the car and watched them leave before going back inside. Beth and Mattie were sitting on the couch, watching a movie on the television. Harm went into the kitchen and got to work on the clean-up from dinner. Once he had everything the way he wanted it, he fixed a glass of wine and sat down at the table. His mind was still racing over the bombshell that Meg had dropped, worrying it like a dog with a bone no matter how many times he tried telling himself to leave it be. Fortunately, it was doubtful that he would have to see Jack any time soon, because right now he doubted that he could and not say something.


	17. Chapter 17

January 20, 2004

NAVFOREUR – London, England

0825 Greenwich/ 0225 Eastern

Major Jack McBurney exited the taxi he had taken in from the airport. One of the benefits of catching a flight that arrived early in the morning was, if you could just sleep on the plane, you could possibly get in a full day's work when you arrived. Given the implied time crunch, that was his firm intention. McBurney did not want to be the cause of any further delays, which is why he'd come straight to NAVFOREUR HQ rather than finding his VOQ and dropping off his luggage.

His first stop was at the security desk, where he presented both his identification and a copy of his orders. The sergeant behind the desk directed him into the security office, where McBurney got a set of building credentials issued. This way, he wouldn't need to be continually signing in for a visitor's pass, but could simply show his ID and pass and continue on. He also left his bags there, for safe keeping as well as security reasons. After that, he stepped into an elevator, following the directions he'd been given as to the conference room where Admiral Morris was working out of.

Unfortunately for McBurney, another person was also getting into the elevator that morning. Harm was running late, having had an early morning meeting at Mattie's school with her History teacher. Both he and Beth had forgotten to sign a permission slip for an upcoming trip to Blenheim Palace and so he had been called that morning about the matter. So, Harm had been forced to go there first and drop off the required form, as well as Mattie. The teacher had taken a couple of moments to explain the importance of turning things in on time, bringing a smile from the teen as well as from Harm, once he'd gotten outside the classroom.

So, now he found himself face to face with the man who had prosecuted him for the murder of Lieutenant Singer. Judging from the pained look on the Marine's face, it was clear the other man remembered as well. However, Harm held no grudge against the man, although he did wish there had been a more thorough investigation done before he'd been locked up and put on trial. Maybe that was his fault, though. He'd certainly acted guilty enough.

"Captain Rabb," McBurney said, nodding his head.

"Major McBurney," was Harm's solemn reply.

"I believe I owe you an apology, Sir."

Harm reached out and pushed the stop button on the elevator.

"Major, don't apology for doing your duty."

"No, Sir. I'm apologizing for not doing my duty. I should have asked for more time, made certain of the evidence…."

"I wasn't the best defendant, either. Everything I did just made me look even guiltier," Harm said. "And maybe if I hadn't looked so guilty, NCIS would have done a better job of investigating the case and discovered that Lindsey was the real killer before I was ever put on trial."

"That's all true, Sir. But, it doesn't necessarily make me feel any better about my part in the whole thing," McBurney said.

"Well, Major, all you can do is learn from the experience and move on. Trust me, I have."

With that, Harm started the elevator once again, effectively ending the conversation. McBurney looked over at the other man, satisfied that at least they had been able to talk. When he'd seen the Captain, he'd been worried that the man would hold him to blame and that the tension could be a problem. Instead, he'd found a man at peace with what had happened, or at least McBurney's role in it.

When the elevator finally stopped on the correct floor, the two of them parted as they went to their own destinations. McBurney continued down the hall to the conference room, while Harm entered his office. Each had pushed the brief conversation aside, as they prepared to face the challenges of their days.

Conference Room, NAVFOREUR – London England

1315 Greenwich/ 0815 Eastern

Jack McBurney had spent the morning going over the transcript of the court-martial and clearly saw that he had his work cut out for him. Captain Krennick was making some interesting counterarguments which he would clearly have to deal with if he was to have any hope of scoring a conviction. What made it even worse was that the victim was Captain Rabb. Part of McBurney wondered if this was Karma or just a joke being played on him by the fates.

Another part of him was disappointed that he didn't have any notes from Commander Alexander, so he was trying to puzzle out her strategy as he went. Now, however, he was done with the transcript and debating whether to move on to the evidence or take a break and find some lunch. After a moment, he decided that food could wait until he'd at least looked at what was in evidence and match it up against the transcript.

An hour passed as he did that, making detailed notes on his legal pad as he went. A couple of things stuck out to him. First, the documents entered as evidence by Captain Krennick were not as descriptive as she had made them out to be. Nowhere in them did Rabb's name appear, nor any other name for that matter. Just that she had made certain purchases around Hilton Head on the weekend in question. Why Alexander hadn't been more forceful in rebutting those documents, he wasn't sure. If it had been him, he'd objected to their probative value. Maybe he would have won and maybe not, but now that they were in evidence, he couldn't object to them. So, he'd just have to attack their credibility.

The flight manifests, though, posed an interesting set of questions for McBurney, however. Looking back through the transcripts, he could only see them being introduced into evidence by Commander Alexander and the objections raised by Captain Krennick. What their value was was presently unclear to him, so he started at page one and began going through them as any thought of lunch faded from his mind.

What was immediately apparent was the date. He had, as he paused to thumb through the entire stack, probably every flight that had left or arrived at either Andrews or Oceana from April 5, 1996 to April 8, 1996. A little bell started ringing in the back of his head, as the dates sunk in. He had seen something else in the transcript connected to that date, he was almost certain. Going back to his notes, he scanned until he found it. Taking a pen, he started writing questions out quickly in short-hand, before turning back to the papers looking for answers.

The first document with the name Krennick that he found was for the fifth. He removed it from the stack, put a post note on the next page to mark its place and continued on looking. Two hours and a cup of coffee later, he found the second one, this time on the evening of the seventh. Repeating his previous step of marking the place, he set this one aside as well while he continued on through to the very last document. Now, he looked over the two manifests that he had removed, looking for the name Rabb.

McBurney reread the documents, making certain that he had not missed something. No, the name Rabb did not appear anywhere on the pages. So, taking a glance at his watch, he gathered up the documents and placed them into a briefcase. This he locked and then took with him, having finally decided that he needed to see about getting something to eat.

Going back downstairs, he stopped at the security desk and asked for directions. After getting a couple of options, he went outside and walked a couple of blocks to a little family restaurant. Settling in, he had an order of fish and chips along with a mineral water. As he ate, he simply let his mind drift over the case, letting what he'd discovered so far sink in. However, he couldn't escape the feeling that there was something more, something that he was missing.

NCIS Offices – London, England

1554 Greenwich/ 1054 Eastern

Agents Weber and Garcia were standing in the basement of the building, watching as one of the evidence specialists finished firing a pistol and set the weapon down. As he made the weapon safe, they approached the bench and watched as the man collected the slug. This he set on the bench, next to four others, then he removed his ear and eye protection and became aware of his audience for the first time.

"Agent Weber, hovering over me is not going to speed up the process."

"I know, but patience isn't my strong suit right now," Weber told the man.

"Well, maybe you should try some herbal teas or meditation. Maybe even yoga," was the man's smiling response, drawing a laugh from Garcia and a withering glare from Weber.

"How long?"

"Well, I need to take these and compare them against the slug removed from Commander Alexander. If they match, we have the weapon that was used."

"They'll match," Weber said, quite certain.

"That, Sir, is an assumption and I deal in facts, not assumptions," the tech responded.

Taking the five slugs he had just produced, the man moved over to a work bench in the rear of the room. There, he had access to several different microscopes with which to examine the evidence. Preferring to beginning with the easiest, at least on the eyes, he selected the one connected to the overhead monitors. Sliding the objects into place, he rotated them as he watched. Finally, a smile came to his face as he looked at the images. On a scale of 1 to 100, he'd put those at around 90. Taking a moment, he checked which of the rounds he'd fired corresponded to what was on the microscope before changing it out.

This time, he was looking at the very first round he'd fired. After rotating this one, his smile got even bigger, if possible. They had their gun, now to match it with their shooter. For his part, Weber didn't say a word as he went out the door and down the hall to a different part of the basement. Garcia just smiled an apology to the man before rushing after her partner.

The next stop was to see the chief forensics specialist assigned to London. Fortunately, she had been on the receiving end of too many visits by Agent Weber to be at all phased by his brusque nature. She just smiled as she watched the pair of them enter her lab, before going to her desk and collecting a report.

"Please tell me you've got something," Weber said.

"What I've got are answers which lead to more questions, Pops," the woman said. "We completely stripped the weapon, checked for blood, organic material, fingerprints and fibers. We found trace amounts of skin cells under the rear of the slide. We also found a fingerprint…."

"On the gun?!" Garcia asked, in shocked disbelief.

"No. One of the remaining cartridges."

"Did you get a match?"

"We did," the woman said, with a smile as she opened up her report and removed a sheet. However, the face was not the one that either Weber or Garcia had been expecting to see.

"Who the hell is he?" Weber asked.

"You might want to take a seat, both of you." Once the two agents had sat down, she turned and clicked on the display mounted to the wall of her lab. "This is Brigadier General Jonathan Gordon, USMC. Currently, he is the Deputy Commander, MARFOREUR. As such, she spends most of his time in Stuttgart, Germany. However, he is here for a couple of days every six to eight weeks, meeting with NAVFOREUR's staff on plans. Remember, the Navy controls the ships the Marines ride on, so coordination is essential."

"Alright, that gives us a who. Now, we need to figure out the how and the why," Weber said, picking up the file and hurriedly walking out of the lab. Garcia followed him upstairs to the office assigned to the team, sitting down at her desk. Fortunately, McCall was also in the building, so they were able to quickly bring him up to speed on the recent developments in the case.

"I've got a problem with this, Pops," Garcia said. "How in the heck does a Marine, less than maybe five feet from his target miss that badly?"

"The pillow cuts both ways, Garcia. If he was using it to muffle his shot, maybe it affected the angle of the round enough to prevent a clean kill," Weber replied.

"Well, I may have something else that will help," McCall told them, before going to the whiteboard they used for assignments. Erasing a section, he quickly drew the rough shape of a human head. "Talked with the doctors over at Guy's Hospital and asked if they could figure out the basic path the slug took in Commander Alexander's head. This is what they showed me, assuming that this is the rear of the head."

Taking a blue dry erase marker, he drew a line from midway on the left side of the skill toward the lower right corner, where the jaw and cheek joined together.

"The wound was relatively shallow as it transected the rear of the brain before lodging here, near the hinge of the jaw. The only way that the doctor could see that happening is if Commander Alexander's head was turned towards the side at the time the shot was fired."

"Good work, Bobby. Now, let's see if we can tie General Gordon to the shooting. Motive, means, and opportunity. Bobby, you see about finding out where he was last weekend. Garcia, see if you can come up with a reason why he'd want to kill Commander Alexander. I'll work on further tying the pistol to him. Let's go, people, the clock is ticking."

With that command, the agents turned to their computers and began working. For McCall, his first steps were to review the last few days of flights from Germany into London. Getting on the telephone with a contact in the UK's Immigration Service, asking them to see if General Gordon had come through on a commercial flight. While they were checking that, he turned his attention to US Air Force flights from Germany into England. Thankfully, these were largely on the computer and easily searched for specific names.

As McCall was working on that, Garcia was pulling up the service records for both General Gordon and Commander Alexander. Once she had them, she laid them virtually side-by-side and went chronologically. She looked at where each of them had been stationed, then also pulled up a copy of the cases that the JAG officer had been assigned that might have taken her elsewhere. On her first look, she saw nothing that connected the pair, so she started at the beginning and went back through. Garcia then checked Commander Alexander's prior cases to see if she had ever prosecuted or defended any Marines. From those cases, she then looked to see if any of the Marines had a connection to General Gordon. She found a pair that did, but the connection was prior to the cases Alexander had been assigned rather than a current connection.

Garcia was just about to give it up, when she suddenly stopped and smiled. She had been so tied up in finding a connection to the people that she hadn't even considered thinking about the timing. Why now versus just why. And the only thing Commander Alexander was currently working on was the Krennick court-martial. Turning back to the computer, she pulled up a copy of Krennick's service records and laid them next to Gordon's. That's when she found the connection she was looking for.

For Weber, his work started with the serial number on the pistol. Knowing that and the manufacturer, he was able to begin tracing the history of the weapon. From the manufacturer to the dealer and onward to the purchaser, all of the information was recorded somewhere. He just needed to find it and see how or even if it connected to the case. The biggest problem for Weber was, how had the gun gotten into the country. Under German and British law and Marine Corps policy, the weapon was illegal and that meant if it was General Gordon's, he faced additional charges from that as well.

Pages upon pages of documents were being printed by the agents, all intended to form the net that would ensnare their suspect.


	18. Chapter 18

January 21, 2004

NCIS Offices – London, England

0638 Greenwich/ 0138 Eastern

Agent McCall walked into the office carrying two large coffees he'd collected on his way to work. A slight smile came to his face as he set one down on the desk of Agent Weber before taking his own seat. Looking at the older man, it was easy to see that he'd not gone home last night, although he had changed his clothes.

"Don't even say it, Bobby," came a warning from Weber as he took a drink from the cup.

"Did you get any sleep last night, Pops?"

"A couple of hours on the couch in the break room."

"So, where do we stand now," McCall asked.

"Well, we've got a connection between Captain Krennick and General Gordon. They met years ago on a case at Quantico. Whether that became something more is a question for you and Garcia. See if you can find something firmer. We know that General Gordon's fingerprint is on one of the rounds in the pistol, but the gun's ownership is a dead end. The last registered owner executed a private sale about ten years ago and doesn't remember who she sold it to. Technical services is combing registration databases, hoping to get a hit on the serial number, but that's going to take some time. The ammunition is generic enough to be useless as far as tracing it," Weber said.

"On the plus side, though, is that General Gordon was in London last weekend. He had meetings at NAVFOREUR on Friday, spent the weekend and flew back to Stuttgart on Monday. And his quarters while here were the VIP quarters at RAF West Ruislip."

"So, we have opportunity. We might have means. We need motive before we start accusing a Marine General of attempted murder."

"I might be able to help with that, Pops," Garcia said as she stepped from the doorway. She'd hear the last half of the other agents' conversation. "I spent last night going more deeply through the service records of both Captain Krennick and General Gordon. Well, I found something very interesting."

Sitting down at her desk, she spent a couple of minutes working on the computer before switching the display to the wall mounted one in the office.

"So, we know that the two of them met in April of 1996. Now watch this."

A pair of calendars appeared on the screen, with certain sets of dates highlighted.

"They were having an affair," Weber said as he began to put it together.

"I think so," Garcia replied. "Notice how the leaves don't always match day-for-day, like sometimes one could get away and the other joined them. But they match enough for it to be hard to argue coincidence, too."

"We'll need to gather more evidence before we push that. Still, that could be a potential motive, especially if either Gordon or Krennick were worried about Commander Alexander tumbling to the fact that they were having an affair. Good work, both of you. Now, start digging up more on that while I go and see someone."

"Who?" McCall asked.

"Why Lieutenant Walker, of course," Weber said, drawing a confused look from the pair of agents as he grabbed his coat and left the office.

Lieutenant Walker's office, FJA – London, England

0711 Greenwich / 0211 Eastern

Agent Weber sat in front of Annette's desk, having finished laying out where they stood. Unfortunately, she hadn't been available to assist them, as she had been dealing with the accident case involving the Attaché's wife. Now, however, she had the flight manifests from the Krennick court-martial on the desk in front of her, flipping the pages as she quickly tried to make sense of them.

"When did you say Captain Krennick and General Gordon met?" she asked a moment later.

"April of 1996. Why?"

"Well, these are flight manifests for a weekend in April, 1996."

"Give me half of that stack, then start reading. We're looking for the names Krennick and Gordon, got it?" Weber asked.

"Yes, Sir," Annette said with a grin at the tone of authority that he'd just used on her.

Less than an hour later, they found what they were looking for. A Colonel Gordon was on the same flights as a Commander Krennick between Andrews AFB and MCAS Beaufort.

"So, Lieutenant, you tell me. What do we do next?"

"I would have to say that our first stop needs to be to see Admiral Morris. This information may or may not have an impact on the Krennick court-martial, but I don't know. I'm not privy to what the charges are. Then, I think we need to interview General Gordon, under suspicion of committing adultery. Depending on how that goes, we then hit him with the attempted murder allegation and see what reaction we get to that."

"I agree. Just one thing, however. Before we confront Gordon, we need more proof than one set of shared flights. I want to be able to lay out a road map of secret rendezvouses between the two of them," Weber said.

"Well, it's your investigation, Agent Weber. I'm just along for the ride," Annette told him with a smile as they both stood.

Weber led the way down the hall to the conference room, where Admiral Morris was working. The Admiral looked up when the door opened, raising an eyebrow when he saw the NCIS agent.

"Good morning, Agent Weber. Was there something I can do for you this morning?"

"Possibly, Admiral. As you know, we're investigating the attempt on Commander Alexander's life. During the course of our investigation, we've come across some information that may have a bearing on the court-martial you're currently trying," Weber began, only to be stopped by the judge.

"Don't tell me anything more, Agent Weber. The person you need to be talking to is Major McBurney. He's taken over the case since Commander Alexander's attack. If you want to wait, he'll be back in a couple of minutes," Admiral Morris said.

"Actually, if you could direct him to Lieutenant Walker's office, that might be even better."

"Certainly."

With that, the pair left and went back to Annette's office. True to his estimate, only a couple of minutes passed before the door opened and a Marine entered. Taking a chair, McBurney listened as Weber outlined the information that their investigation had uncovered. The entire time the older man spoke, McBurney took notes and by the time he was done there were several pages filled from top to bottom.

Opening his briefcase, McBurney took out his copy of the court transcript and started flipping through. When he finally found what he was looking for, he started writing more notes to himself. This was going to blow the case open, as far as he was concerned, and possibly result in additional charges for Captain Krennick. He knew he wouldn't be able to charge her under Article 131, since she wasn't the one under oath, but he could possibly under Article 133. And that wasn't even considering potential charges relating to the attack on Commander Alexander.

One question, however, began nagging at McBurney. If Captain Krennick was having an affair with General Gordon, why had she then made a play for Captain Rabb? Was it just a one-time thing, a way of proving something, or was it something deeper. Could his earlier rejection of the woman have built a need in Captain Krennick to prove that she could get her man?

For Weber, things were much simpler. He cared much less about the motive and a lot more about the evidence. And all the evidence seemed to be pointing to General Gordon having tried to kill Commander Alexander, whether to protect himself or the woman he was having an affair with didn't change that.

"Agent Weber, can you see that I get copies of your reports, please? I'll also need you available to testify again in the Krennick court-martial," McBurney said.

"As long as they don't compromise my investigation into the Alexander case," Weber told him.

"And if I can't guarantee that?"

"Then I would have to have my boss talk to General Creswell. I think they'd both agree that an attempted murder trumps a fraternization and sexual harassment case. I don't want to spook General Gordon before I'm ready to have him arrested, Major."

"How much more time do you think you'll need?" McBurney asked.

"If I push, I might be ready by this evening," Weber replied. "A lot depends on things that I have absolutely no control over, like finding evidence."

"Well, we not scheduled to reconvene until tomorrow anyway, so that would work. If you need more time, I'll see what I can do to stall. But, be forewarned that Admiral Morris may not go for any more delays in the trial."

"Got it, Major. We'll work as fast as we can, I promise."

Force Judge Advocate's Office – London, England

1228 Greenwich/ 0728 Eastern

Harm was having an outstanding morning, as things came together better than he could have ever hoped for. Commander Coleman down at Naples had been the first call of the morning, reporting that the Captain of the Mahan had broken during interrogation and given a full confession. The Italian government had been more than happy to have the Navy exercise their prerogatives under the status of forces agreement and try the case. Coleman was recommending life in prison without parole, a recommendation that Harm would pass on to Admiral Kieso for his consideration. Having dealt with a death penalty case before, he well understood the moral dilemma attached to the sentence. Plus, having been on trial for murder gave him a whole new perspective on the criminal justice system.

Almost before he had time to savor that information as well as the cup of coffee he'd gotten from the break room, the telephone rang again. This was Mister Hargrove, the barrister helping with the case involving the Attaché's wife.

"I have some good news for you, Captain," was how Hargrove began.

"Well, I'm always in the mood to hear good news," Harm replied.

"One of my staff happened to recognize the 'victim' of our accident. Turns out he's a member of the Scottish National Party and he's been playing the accident up back home. The more bad press he can drum up against the American Navy, the better in his mind. His refrain is, get this: 'If you can't trust their wives with cars, how can we trust the husbands with nukes.'"

"Very cute. So that tells us what he's after."

"Right, Captain. Now for the good news I promised you. My staff found a couple of witness who saw the 'victim' in a pub not ten minutes before the accident. Mind you, he wasn't driving drunk as the police certainly would have caught that, but…," Mr. Hargrove said.

"No harm in mentioning it to his attorney, in the interest of full disclosure. I'm quite sure the only part the media would put in the headline is the part about him being in the pub. The rest would be buried in the actual article," Harm said with a smile.

"Precisely, Captain Rabb. Now, the Scots do love their whiskey and all, but the possibility of his driving drunk would have to be a turn-off for some voters. Hopefully, the man will see sense."

"Well, I look forward to hearing his response, Mr. Hargrove. Thank you," Harm said before hanging up and moving on to the next item on his list, which was clearing the accumulated paperwork from his In box.

Yet, with the way that the day was going, even this task couldn't bring him down. Two major thorns had effectively been removed from his side and he had a lunch date scheduled with his lovely wife at a local pub. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was time to leave so that he could meet her there. Picking up the local cell phone that had finally arrived that morning, he put it in his coat pocket before leaving his office and telling Simpkins that he was going to lunch.

Marlborough Head Pub – London, England

1311 Greenwich/ 0811 Eastern

Harm and Beth weren't the only people who had stumbled upon the pub as a place to grab lunch before heading back to work. First Sergeant Galindez had decided on the pub as a means of getting away from the Embassy for a little while. One of the problems he'd encountered was due to his rank. The higher in rank he rose, the more alone he felt. It was even worse at the Embassy, given that the diplomatic staff tended to view the Marine guards in one of two ways, often depending on where they'd been posted previously. The majority saw the Marines as rent-a-cops or guard dogs, potentially useful but not something you troubled yourself to be nice to. The rest were those people who'd spent time in dangerous places, where the Marines were more highly valued but still treated as second-class citizens until bad things happened.

Victor was used to that, but he'd expected something a little different from the military personnel assigned to the Embassy. Yet, except for Lieutenant Commander Rabb and a couple of others, his Marines were lucky to get a nod of greeting from the officers when not in uniform. Commander Rabb, though, was the best of them all and not just to him. He'd seen her coming in a couple of days and stopping to chat with whoever was on duty. Not to mention yesterday, when she'd brought lunch down for the two of them, something that had slightly discomforted the Marine until he realized that this was her way of thanking him for having her back.

Now, as he sat waiting for the waitress to stop over, he saw the Captain and Commander at another table. The Captain saw him too and nodded a greeting, before turning his attention back to his wife. The pub was very crowded, making him regret it as his choice for lunch. But leaving now would be too obvious, so he returned his attention to the menu.

"Excuse me, Sir," the hostess said softly, getting him to raise his eyes from the menu. "We're a bit full at the moment. We were wondering if you would mind sharing your table."

Victor let his gaze cross to the door, where he spotted a brunette in the uniform of a navy petty officer. The woman's hair was done up, revealing her full face to his appreciative eyes. The woman caught his glance and smiled pleasantly.

"Certainly, Ma'am," Victor told the hostess, pulling his coat from the opposite chair as she motioned for the young woman to come over.

"Thank you for letting me share your table, First Sergeant," she said as she took the seat across from him.

"That's quite alright, Legalman First Class," Victor said, with just enough inflection to make it a question.

"Jennifer Coates, First Sergeant."

"Nice to meet you, Petty Officer Coates. I'm Victor Galindez."

A light came on for Jennifer, knowing that she had heard that name somewhere before. For his part, Victor was curious about what had brought that look to Jen's face. While she searched her memory, the waitress came up to take their orders, distracting him from seeing her make the connection.

"I'll have the fish and chips, with a Pepsi," Victor said.

"I'll have a chicken and bacon salad, with a diet Pepsi," Jen said after a moment.

"You really should eat more than just a salad, Petty Officer."

"There's more than just salad there, First Sergeant. There's chicken and bacon in there as well as the healthier things. Besides, I've got to keep my figure if I want you guys to keep looking at me."

Victor could easily see the laughter in her eyes.

"Well, speaking as a guy, there's absolutely nothing wrong with your figure."

"Why, thank you very much."

"I'm surprised you didn't give me a yellow light for that comment," Victor told her.

"I may be in the navy, but I'm still a woman and want a man to find me attractive," Jen replied.

"You definitely are that."

"Besides, I figured I could trust a friend of Jason Tiner's."

"How…?"

"I'm a legalman, First Sergeant. I'm pretty good at putting things together. Besides, Tiner talked about you a number of times, as did many of the people at JAG HQ," Jen told him. "When I got there, it was like you'd just left."

"Well, Tiner and I became friends and we've kept in touch, although now that he's an officer it makes things a little different. I enjoyed my time at JAG, though, and the officers there were good. Lieutenants Roberts and Sims are good people, so is Colonel MacKenzie. Captain Rabb, though, was the best of them all, because you could just tell that he cared," Victor said.

"Oh, yeah, I know. He helped turn my life around after I had done a pretty good job of making a mess of it and he never asked for anything…."

"He wouldn't, not the Captain. He works more on the credit system, you see."

"What do you mean?" Jen asked, confused.

"See, he hopes that he's gaining credit with you, so that one day when someone asks for your help, you'll remember the time when he helped you. So, you help that other person out and they help someone else and on it goes. That's what I mean," Victor told her, smiling at her.

"Oh, that explains a few things. Like him and Mattie."

"Who's Mattie?" Victor asked, as confused as Jen had been a moment before.

"She's a teenager Captain Rabb adopted a couple of months ago. From what I understand, her mother was killed in an accident and her father is an alcoholic," Jen told him.

"How did the Captain meet her?"

"Well, after he and Colonel MacKenzie came back from Paraguay, he was out of the Navy for a while. He worked for the Agency for a few month, then after that he was crop dusting for the business Mattie's mom owned and Mattie was now running. After finding out that she was abandoned, the Captain stepped in."

"That sounds like him," Victor said as the waitress returned with their lunches. Both of them dug right in, realizing that it was getting close to time for each of them to get back to work. At that though, Victor realized how much he'd enjoyed talking with Jen and that he definitely wanted to do it again. What he didn't realize was that Jen was reaching much the same thought.

"I know this is going to sound strange, but I've really enjoyed this. Would you like to do it again?" Jen asked hopefully.

"I'd love to, Jennifer."

Taking a pen from her pocket, along with a cocktail napkin, she quickly wrote down her telephone numbers, both personal and work, then handed it over to him.

"Call me anytime, Victor."

When they had finished their lunches and paid, Victor helped Jen back on with her coat before shrugging his own on. He then escorted her to the NAVFOREUR offices and waited until she was inside the doors before continuing on to the Embassy. The young Corporal on duty was shocked as Victor passed him. Unless his ears were deceiving him, he had heard the First Sergeant whistling and not just whistling anything, but whistling "Anchors Aweigh". Nah, he had to have been hearing things, didn't he?

NCIS Offices – London, England

2020 Greenwich/ 1520 Eastern

Agent Weber looked over at the other two members of his team and sighed. Both of them were clearly running on fumes and the level of the productivity had markedly diminished in the last hour. Still, what they had accomplished was some excellent work. On his desk, they had stacked over two dozen confirmed and verified times that Captain Krennick and General Gordon had gotten together. With this, he had more than enough to pursue charges against them under Articles 133 and 134. But Weber wasn't interested in Conduct Unbecoming charges or Adultery charges, he was investigating an attempted murder and these were merely the preliminaries to that charge.

To that end, he'd had General Gordon arrested that afternoon. The man was scheduled to arrive within the hour, at which time Weber planned to interview the man. So, now was the time for him to make his battle plan. Pulling a pad of paper towards him, Weber started writing down questions that he needed answer to. So, he had the information for, but the others were intended for the accused.

Weber also had Captain Krennick in custody. She was still very much a part of this whole case and in his mind, whether she pulled the actual trigger or not didn't make her any less responsible. His take on the case was that Krennick had gotten scared, worried that the secret was about to come out. She had called Gordon and told him what she feared. Maybe the General had shared that fear or maybe he just wanted to protect his mistress, didn't matter. He was in London, staying on the same base as Commander Alexander and his fingerprints connected him to the weapon used.

The knock at the office door brought Weber's head up, as well as those of the other members of his team.

"Enter," Weber called, after turning over his notepad.

"Your suspect is in Interrogation Room 3 for you, as is his lawyer."

"Thanks. I'll be right there."

Picking up the stack of folders along with his notepad, Weber headed out the door followed closely by the two other agents. Making a quick turn, he found himself standing before the door to Interrogation Room 3. With a nod of his head, he indicated that the others should step into the observation room next door. Weber then carefully schooled his features into a blank, almost bored mask before he entered the room. Two Marines sat on one side of the table, with General Gordon being easy to identify.

"Agent Weber, I'm Colonel Tolliver. MARFOREUR's Force Judge Advocate and General Gordon's attorney," the second man said.

"Colonel, General," Weber said as he sat down and arranged things where he wanted them. "General, when you were arrested this afternoon, did the Agents explain why?"

"They did, Agent Weber," General Gordon said.

"Then you'll forgive me if I repeat much of what they may have said. I need to advise you of your Article 31 rights with respect to self-incrimination. You are not required to answer any questions that might tend to incriminate you. Anything said may be used against you at court-martial. You have the right to legal counsel and may elect to stop the interview at any point in time. Do you understand these rights, General?"

"I do."

"The charges we are currently investigating are violations of Articles 80 with regards to an attempt of Article 118, Article 108, Article 126, Article 133 and Article 134 – Adultery. That is, that you did attempt to murder Commander Lynn Alexander and that you did set fire to her room in the Visiting Officer's Quarters at RAF West Ruislip on January 17, 2004, destroying government property in the process. Additionally, that you have been involved in an affair with Captain Alison Krennick for almost eight years," Weber told them.

Both General Gordon and Colonel Tolliver just stared back at him, waiting

"Very well, Sir. Let's begin with something simple, your name, rank and present duty station," Weber said, holding a pen above the note pad.

"Jonathan Gordon. Brigadier General, United States Marine Corps. Deputy Commander, MARFOREUR, Stuttgart, Germany."

"And are you currently married, General Gordon?"

"That's what it says in my service record," Gordon replied.

"And have you been seeing Captain Krennick behind your wife's back?" Weber asked.

"No. My wife is well aware of my relationship with Alison."

"Well, that takes care of the Adultery and Conduct Unbecoming charges. Guess we can get down to why you tried to kill Commander Alexander."

"I didn't, Agent Weber," Gordon told him. "I cheated on my wife for a number of years. Maybe that was wrong according to the law, but she knew about it and she accepted it."

"There's just one problem with my believing that, General," Weber said as he pulled a folder from the stack and opened it. "We have the pistol used to shoot Commander Alexander in the back of her head. The pistol itself appeared to have been wiped clean before being dumped. However, one thing was missed: a single fingerprint on one of the rounds in the magazine. Your fingerprint, General."

"But that's not my pistol, Agent Weber. The pistol you have belongs to Captain Krennick."

"How do you know that, General?"

"When Alison was stationed in Washington, there were some muggings in her neighborhood. She decided to get a small pistol for personal protection. She still had it, as of last month. I got her a box of ammunition for it, .22 caliber, as well as a small holster for her belt. I gave them to her in December and I loaded the magazine with the new ammo then," Gordon told him.

"You are aware that having that pistol is against regulations, not to mention British law?" Weber asked him, frankly curious at the turn this had just taken.

"Yes and I can guess your next question. If I knew, why didn't I turn her in? Agent Weber, if I could have seen this coming, I assure you I would have. All I thought was that she still felt the need to some protection and her having the pistol didn't seem like a big deal."

A knock came at the door, which then opened just enough for McCall to stick his head and arm in. A folder was extended, which Weber got up to take. Opening the folder, he found a copy of the report on the weapon with a pair of lines highlighted.

"Would you be willing to provide a DNA sample, General? If it comes back negative, you're off the hook for the attempted murder and the arson. You'll still have to face the adultery charges, though," Weber told him.

General Gordon looked over at his attorney, who nodded.

"Alright, Agent Weber. Let's get it done," Gordon said confidently.

Opening the door, Weber turned the two Marines over to Garcia, who would take them down to the lab and observe as the sample was collected and tested. For his part, Weber was virtually certain how the test results would come back and had already mentally moved to the next part of the game. Going to his office after collecting his files and notes, he picked up the telephone.

"Bring Captain Krennick and her attorney to Interrogation Room 2, please?"

Taking a few minutes to refocus, Weber decided to have a cup of coffee followed by a stop at the rest room. Once he was ready, he went to the observation room and made certain that McCall was there and the recording equipment was running before entering the Interrogation Room. There he got his first surprise, for Alison was by herself. Still, he remained composed as he sat down across from her and laid his files down.

"Agent Weber, why am I not surprised? Still investigating that fire?" Alison said, a faint smile on her face.

"Actually, Captain, I've moved on to bigger things than just an arson. But before we get into all of that, let me get the preliminaries out of the way. I need to advise you of your Article 31 rights with respect to self-incrimination. You are not required to answer any questions that might tend to incriminate you. Anything said may be used against you at court-martial. You have the right to legal counsel and may elect to stop the interview at any point in time. Do you understand these rights, Captain?"

"Of course I do. I'm a JAG officer, I've certain said them enough times over the years."

"Do you wish us to have counsel provided for you?" Weber asked.

"I do not. Besides, there's nobody in London I'd be willing to trust with my defense," Alison said.

"Very well, Captain. The charges we are currently investigating are violations of Articles 80 with regards to an attempt of Article 118, Article 108, Article 126, Article 133 and Article 134 – Adultery. That is, that you did attempt to murder Commander Lynn Alexander and that you did set fire to her room in the Visiting Officer's Quarters at RAF West Ruislip on January 17, 2004, destroying government property in the process. Additionally, that you have been involved in an affair with General Jonathan Gordon for almost eight years," Weber told her.

"I beg your pardon, murder? Commander Alexander? Gee, you're certainly trying to take the easy way out, aren't you?" Alison asked, acting stunned.

"Come on, Captain. You certainly can't be surprised that you're a suspect. I mean, the only reason the Commander is in London is your court-martial and now she's in the hospital, in a coma after someone shot her in the head."

"So, your motive is that I shot her because I'm being court-martialed and she happened to be assigned as the prosecutor?"

"Oh, there's a little more. See, in the course of prosecuting you, she uncovered the fact that you and General Gordon have been carrying on an affair for several years. That you were with Gordon, not Rabb, that weekend on Hilton Head in 1996. That little detail blows your defense out of the water, doesn't it?" Weber asked with a mocking grin.

He just watched as the floor began to give way beneath the woman across from him. Yet, he could also see that she wasn't about to go down without a fight.

"That still doesn't mean that I tried to kill her, Agent Weber," Alison said, struggling to keep her composure. "Wouldn't General Gordon have as much of a motive as you claim I have?"

"Yes, except that we've excluded him as a suspect after interrogating him. See, he told us that the pistol that we recovered and matched as the gun used to shoot Commander Alexander belonged to you, Captain."

"Good luck in proving that, Agent Weber."

"Oh, it shouldn't be too hard. See, whoever used the gun last had a little accident and the gun bit them. The slide, you see, when it came back, it caught the shooter in the web of the hand and cut them. Kind of like that cut on your hand, Captain," Weber said, pointing to the spot, his smile even bigger now, knowing he had her. Lawyers, always thinking they were so much smarter than everyone else.

Alison finally got smart and shut up, but the damage was well and truly done now.

"Captain Alison Krennick, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Commander Lynn Alexander, the arson committed at the visiting officer's quarters at RAF West Ruislip and the destruction of government property that resulted. You are also charged with committing adultery and conduct unbecoming. Stand up."

When she was standing, Weber cuffed her and led her out of the Interrogation Room. He was joined by McCall and the pair of agents led Alison down the hall and to the elevators. Going down to the ground floor, they went outside and put her into a car for the trip to the detention facility. The next steps in the whole process would be handled at a much higher pay grade than theirs.


End file.
